


What May Come

by Tigervetky



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 78,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigervetky/pseuds/Tigervetky
Summary: This story begins on the farm with a 19 year old Beth and a 29ish year old Daryl.  We are a year into the zombie apocalypse and the group, led by Rick and co., has been on the farm for a few months.  This is a slow burn.  No major character death.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Beth Greene, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Comments: 161
Kudos: 288





	1. Leave Childish Things in the Past

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is from Beth's point of view. POV will flip flop as dictated by the content of each chapter. Enjoy!

She always liked to run. Usually she ran in the woods on the east side of the farm with the sun fading to rest behind her. The well-worn path, evidence of her tenacity, was now grown over as opportunistic weeds sprouted and flourished uninhibited. The dead had been rising to walk again for over a year now, and Beth had been on lockdown for nearly as long. Since the motley crew of survivors, led by the weathered sheriff showed up, she had tiptoed around her home as if it belonged to someone else. They were a rough and tumble bunch, and Daddy was leery, but Beth was learning to trust the rugged confidence of the group’s leader. It was his right hand man that had her looking over her shoulder and sticking close to the house. Shane Walsh was an intimidating figure of a man, no doubt. His angular nose and sharp chin made him look more like a Greek statue than a man, but it was his eyes that set Beth on edge. They were deceptively doe like, dancing when he flirted, cold and menacing when no one was paying attention. He was the reason Beth kept close to the house, until one afternoon, she didn’t.

Jimmy had been pushing for more than Beth was ready to give. He said the world was ending. This could be their last chance. When the begging didn’t work, desperation gave way to anger. He grabbed her shoulders and backed her into the side of the barn, squeezing her in frustration. His lips were hard and rough on her neck as he pinned her to the rough boards with his weight. On instinct, Beth drove her knee up and into the hard bulge beneath the front of his jeans. Jimmy doubled over, eyes wide with a silent, almost comedic, “Oh”. Beth shoved him hard, sending him the rest of the way to the ground, and skittered past him straight into the woods. She heard him yelling something about not blaming him when she died all alone, as she stomped along that familiar running trail deeper into the woods toward the creek that separated the Greene farm from their nearest neighbor.

The ever present fear of the dead took a back seat to her firey temper. She didn’t release that particular beast often, but when she did, it was a force all its own. Beth didn’t hear the footfalls that followed behind her from the pounding of her pulse in her ears. The angry tears that tracked her cheeks just made her madder. She hates that she cries when she’s mad… or happy or frustrated or sometimes, for no real reason at all. She is bent over catching her breath and swiping at the offending tears with the back of her hands when she hears it, the quiet snap of a twig then the squish of small rocks into the sandy clay mix on the creek bank. She stands, back rigid, and slowly lifts her hand to her pocket to fish out the pocket knife no decent farm girl would ever be caught without. The quiet, slow progress of the intruder quickens and all pretense of a sneak attack falls away. He knows that she knows he is there. A long, appreciative whistle leaves his lips, and she knows without looking that its Deputy Walsh.

“You’re a little spitfire aren’t ya darlin’. Who knew underneath all that creamy, china doll sweetness, you’re a real live hellcat, huh.”

Beth’s heart rate picks up speed, and the grip on her blade tightens. Shane tosses a rock into the creek and chuckles at nothing in particular. “I saw what you did to that boy back there. Don’t think he’ll be makin’ that same mistake again…” He edges a little closer to Beth, testing the waters. “You’re a real hellcat alright.”

A step and a half from Beth, he reaches for her and runs a quick finger down the back of her bicep. She wheels on him, pocket knife at the ready. Shane snorts, but there is a flash of respect in his eyes, and he has the decency to take a small step back. “I’m not gonna’ hurt ya, darlin’. Put yer little knife away. Just wanna get ta know ya better, that’s all.”

Beth takes a step back and her eyes dart past Shane toward the trail home. He steps into her line of sight. His easy smile is gone replaced by a hungry, predatory lear that causes Beth to shiver. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you make it back safe and sound. You shouldn’t be alone out here, not with the dead risin’ like they are.” He takes another step forward, reaching with both hands.

“There ya are! Lets go, Beth! Yer sister sent me to find ya.” Beth spins on her heels and Shane takes a withering step back, arms going slack to rest at his sides. Daryl flicks his wrist impatiently, motioning for Beth to get a move on. His eyes are narrow and hard, but he isn’t looking at her. There’s a warning in the glare he sends over her shoulder. His arm is outstretched, calling her to him. Beth picks up the pace and heads straight for Daryl. His hand grazes her shoulder and he gives her a little nudge when she scoots past him. He backs up a few steps before turning to follow in her wake. Shane scowls after them and turns to toss another rock into the creek.

Beth is several steps ahead of Daryl and headed in the wrong direction. “Hey! This way,” he hollers, and she stops, sort of.

She’s twitchy. He’s noticed it before. She’s all pent up energy, coiled tight when she’s agitated. It's familiar. Daryl flicks his wrist again and points to the right. Beth strides past him and slows her pace, but Daryl continues to stay a few steps behind. She keeps waiting for him to say something, maybe yell at her for being out there by herself. Ask her what the hell she was thinking. She absentmindedly swipes at her shoulder, it still tingles where his fingers landed before. She waits for him to give her the whatfor for having to save her from her own stupidity. He never does. He doesn’t say a word until they are back on the trail toward home.

“You got it from here,?” he asks. His voice is gruff and raspy as if he hasn’t spoken in days.

Beth stops, looks down at her feet and nods. She takes a deep breath and turns to thank him, but he’s gone. She looks in every direction and listens intently for any evidence of where he might have disappeared to. Nothing. Her brow creases and her shoulder itches again in that same spot. She turns back and quick steps for the house. She has a lot to process, needs to get to her journal and sort through it all. Jimmy’s an ass, and she was right about Shane. He isn’t to be trusted. And Daryl… she isn’t sure what to make of Daryl. Beth climbs the steps to her room and pulls her leather bound journal from beneath her pillow.

Its early evening, the sun disappearing earlier and earlier as the nights grow cooler. There’s a knock on the door. Beth hears Shane’s booming voice from downstairs. He’s talking to her mama, says he’s just checking in, making sure everybody and everything is okay. Beth is holding her breath, waiting for her mama to send him away. Instead, she hears her invite him in. They’re chatting in the kitchen, and Mama’s pouring him a glass of lemonade.

“Oh, hell no!” Beth says to herself.

She’s been writing in her journal for hours, a long time to be writing, even for her. In that time, she’s decided to tear down her old posters, put away her school girl dreams. She’s 19 now, nearly 20. Her senior year, the year that never happened, no longer tugs on her heart, tethering her to the past. Its time to move on. Its time to be brave.

She charges down the steps in her sock feet and stops just short of making the turn to the kitchen. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath not quite sure what the plan is, but her mind is made up. Beth Greene isn’t running from her fears anymore. She paints a lovely smile across her face and bounces into the kitchen as if she hasn’t a care in the world. “Hey Mama. Hello Deputy Walsh,” she says with feigned teen-age enthusiasm. Annette is chopping carrots into tiny squares and Shane is leaning against the refrigerator. One side of his lip eases up as he half snarls, half grins at Beth over the rim of his glass.

“Hey, sweetheart. What ‘cha up to.” Annette asks without looking up from her task.

“Nothin’ much,” Beth sing-songs and heads straight for Shane. “Excuse me, please,” she says in her sweetest child-like voice and reaches past him to open the fridge. Annette still keeps the drinks in there even though the fridge serves no more purpose these days than a decorative statue. Beth slams the door into Shane’s shoulder as he slides out of the way sending a splash or two of lemonade up and over the edge of the glass.

“Oh! Deputy Shane! I’m so sorry,” she says non-apologetically. She nearly giggles at the sight of him skittering back to avoid spilling lemonade on his filthy t-shirt. Instead she turns and kisses her mama on the cheek. “I’m goin’ out on the porch for a bit.”

Outside, she briefly wonders if her little display in the kitchen was the smartest move she’s ever made. But something inside her snapped or maybe everything just fell into place after today’s events. She isn’t exactly sure, but she knows that she has to change if she has any chance of surviving this new world. Movement beneath the big oak tree growing just off the side of the porch catches her eye. A flash of moonlight off of metal appears and disappears as he shifts his crossbow from his shoulder to the ground. Feeling a little outside of herself, Beth hops down the stairs and heads straight for him. He starts to fidget and digs in his breast pocket for a cigarette.

“Hey,” she says as he takes his first deep, centering draw. He lifts his chin, a quick up-nod, in response. Beth’s hands go to her pockets and she looks down at her sock clad feet. They don’t say anything for the longest beat, but it’s not uncomfortable, just… quiet. Beth breaks the silence. “Thank you for today,” she says in earnest and cocks her head to try and catch his eyes.

“were’nt nothin’,” he says and takes another long draw from his cigarette.

“Was to me.”

“You ‘aught ta’ stay away from him. That little prick, what’s-his-name too.”

Beth’s head shoots up and she studies Daryl’s profile trying to make sense of what he’s just said. He must have seen her exchange with Jimmy which means he was following her when Shane showed up. Upstairs in her room, when she was going back over the day, she had just assumed he was out hunting. She had been exceedingly grateful for the happenstance that saved her from who knows what at Shane’s hands. She hadn’t even considered that Daryl was out there silently following her, keeping her safe. Beth isn’t sure what to do with this new found information, but the warmth spreading through her chest tells her it’s worth figuring out.

“Quit starin’ at me girl. Sumpin’ wrong with you?”

Beth does giggle this time. She hasn’t let out a good laugh in a long while, not since her whole world went to shit. “Ain't nothin’ wrong with me. I’m just thinkin’ I owe you more than I first thought.”

“You don’t owe me shit. Just be more careful with yourself.” He licks his fingers and squeezes the lit end of the half smoked cigarette before stuffing it back in his pocket. He’s just about to push past her when the screen door slams and Shane steps out onto the porch. Beth can feel the tension rolling off of Daryl like a heat wave. “Get on back upstairs,” he says as he slips into the shadows behind the mammoth oak.

Beth turns and meets Shane as he hits the dirt in front of the house. “Where you been, darlin’?”

“Not your business,” she retorts as she skirts past him. He makes a play for her arm, but she spins out of his reach and keeps a steady pace as she climbs the front porch steps.

Daryl watches from the shadows as Shane snorts ruefully and struts off toward their camp. Daryl’s eyes drift to the paint chipped, double-pane window above him as it opens. Beth’s pony tail falls over her shoulder as she leans forward pushing one of the antique panes out and open. She can’t see him, but she knows he’s there. “Goodnight, Daryl,” she whispers and retreats into her pink and yellow room.


	2. Shatter

“Beth!” Maggie hollers from the foot of the stairs.

“What,” Beth hollers back, rounding the corner from the living room.

“Take this up to Daryl. I got somethin’ I gotta’ do.”

Beth takes the tray and shoots her sister a coy little grin. “You mean some _body_ you gotta’ do?”

Maggie slaps her lightly on the side of her head and tells her to shut it. Beth heads up the stairs thinking about what she might say to Daryl first. They haven’t spoken since that evening under the oak tree, not much anyway. There’s been a, “hey” and a grunt here and there, but no real talking. She’s caught him looking at her plenty, not in a creeper sort of way, not even like he much wants to have anything to do with her kind of way. Its more like he’s trying to figure her out. Trying to decide if she’s worth anything in this new shit ass world.

Andrea shot him three days ago. He’s upstairs in the bedroom across from hers. “Serves him right,” she thinks to herself. “Shouldn’t ‘a stole my horse.” She’s mad as hell now that she knows he’s gonna’ recover. She’s still not sure what she’s gonna say to him, but she’s run out of time. She knocks on the door and hears the bed squeak from the other side. When he doesn’t answer, she knocks again.

“Yeah?”

She can hear the scowl on his face. _Jerk_. She opens the door without a word and walks right in. “I brought yer supper.” He just looks at her like she’s offered him piss in a bucket. “Sit up so I can put this tray down,” she snips.

Daryl scoots up in the bed, wincing a bit with the effort. Beth plops the tray in his lap and steps back, arms crossed over her chest. He starts to eat and tries to ignore the hole she’s burning in the top of his head. But she stands there, boot tapping on the hardwood floor, scraping on his nerves until he breaks. “The hell’s wrong wit’ you, girl?”

“Are you serious? You stole my horse!”

He doesn’t rightly know what to say. Her cheeks are on fire and those blue eyes of hers are impossibly big. His eyes float over to the little braid that disappears into her blond ponytail. He isn’t a man of many words, but it’s rare that he’s struck speechless.

“Well… what have you got to say for yerself?”

His eyes snap back to hers. “I aint apologizin’ if that’s what yer lookin’ for.”

She stomps her booted foot. “You took Nelly without askin’! You’re damn lucky she made it back home with all those things walkin’ around out there.”

“I was lookin’ for that little girl. Needed that damn horse to cover more ground. Aint apologizing for that. Dumb ass horse nearly killed me.”

“All you had to do was ask. I would’ve let you take her. And I would’ve warned you about all her little quirks. She’s skittish, and she don’t trust easy. Might ‘a saved ya that fall, and stopped ya from gettin’ shot too.” She’s starting to sound a little hysterical, even to herself. Daryl can’t help but notice how thick her accent gets when she gets riled up. She takes a deep breath and finishes with a quiet, “you just should ‘a asked.”

Daryl considers her point and offers her an apologetic grunt. Sensing that’s all she’s gonna’ get, Beth heads toward the door. Daryl’s hand shoots out and lands on her wrist. “ ‘M sorry.”

Beth nods and gently shakes herself loose from his light grip. She rubs at her wrist as she crosses to her own bedroom. That weird tingling is back where he touched her, and her cheeks are warm following their little spat.

***

It’s a scant few days later and Daryl is standing next to the bed where he’s spent the last week recovering. He’s been in the bed too long. His body is healing, but he feels weak, slow. The house has been unusually quiet the last two days, too quiet. Lori has been the one to bring him his meals since Beth was last in his room. She hasn’t said much, just leaves his food and asks him if he needs anything before she goes. He figures Hershel’s pissed, maybe Annette too, at Beth being in his room, at Beth being anywhere near him at all. Daryl stretches and rubs at his shoulder. It still hurts like a son of a bitch, but it’s time he got back to pullin’ his weight. He grabs his crossbow and steps into the hall. His eyes land on Beth’s door. Its open, and from this angle, he can see the end of her pink and yellow clad bed. There’s a chipped guitar on a stand in the corner and a pile of sheet music stacked on a pale yellow dresser against the wall. He wonders if she’s the one he’s heard singing and playing on the piano downstairs.

Daryl sniffs and pulls his mind from wherever the hell it just drifted off to. He trots down the stairs to an empty house. Outside, all is quiet, but something’s not right. Daryl can feel it in his gut. He heads toward the RV and hears Shane yelling down by the barn. Rick is yelling too. He sounds desperate, “Stop, brother!” he screams. Daryl takes off at a run sliding to a stop behind Beth and Maggie. Shane is pounding at the lock on the barn doors. No one else is moving, everyone’s attention solely focused on those doors as the growling behind them reaches a feverish and terrifying crescendo. Shane rips down the last remaining board and the animated dead stumble forth. From the corner of his eye, Daryl sees Hershel fall to his knees. Maggie is on him in a second, grabbing his shoulders from behind, disbelief covers her face. Jimmy rushes for Beth, his arms encircling her tiny frame. She pulls away and teeter totters on shaky legs, but she holds herself upright. Her hands land on the top of her head and she stares at the dead in horror as they amble forward. Shane fires the first shot, and all hell breaks loose. Daryl rushes past Beth spinning as he passes to face her. His hand lands roughly on her hip for the briefest second. Beth’s eyes lock with his. “Stay back,” he commands, and he disappears from her line of sight as quickly as he appeared.

Beth’s eyes are darting from one monster to the next. Her mama and her brother have been missing for two days now. They went to gather eggs and never came back. She knows in her heart that they won’t ever be back. Would rather have never seen them again as opposed to seeing them shuffle out of that barn snappin’ their jaws and reachin’ forward blindly like something had them on an invisible string. Beth sees her. Her mama. She takes a step in her direction, arms reaching, but that thing aint her mama anymore. Daryl’s shotgun booms and the thing that her sweet mama has become reels back, cheek exploding on impact. Beth, like her daddy, falls to her knees.

The last walker falls, and the world goes quiet. Everyone lowers their weapons, each trying to make sense of what just happened. Its then that one last walking dead emerges from the barn. Nobody moves. Nobody breaths. The little girl that once belonged to Carol, the thing that she once called Sophia stumbles forward. This animated shell is different than the others. It’s almost hesitant as it steps into the light. The driving, insatiable need to eat, to kill, so obvious in the snapping jowls of the ones that have come before her is somehow replaced with a quiet curiosity. This small beast almost seems a little scared. She growls tentatively, a quiet grumble like a pup finding her bark. Carol screams and rushes forward. Daryl catches her, drags her back, pinning her gently to the ground. The noise seems to agitate the little monster and the grumbles grow to full on growls. Her teeth slam together as the hunger kicks in and her footfalls increase in speed. Everyone jumps when the bullet leaves Rick’s gun. Sophia falls and Daryl lifts Carol from the ground. “Don’t look,” he all but begs. Carol pulls from his grip and trips over her own feet as she retreats. Something in Beth breaks, and she runs for the pile rolling a twice dead corpse from atop her mama.

Later that night, locked in the bathroom upstairs, she replays the horror of the day… the rotting corpse that once held her mama’s sole as it surged forward snapping at her face. Daryl’s arms as they wrapped around her chest lifting her from the ground and ripping her from her mama’s grip. That final shot that put her mama down for good. Carol’s anguish. Shane’s accusations. Her Daddy’s heartbreak. It’s too much. It’s just so wrong on so many levels. She feels all of it, all at once, come crashing down on her delicate heart. To her surprise, her heart doesn’t break. It doesn’t even crack. She’s mad. No, she’s furious. _Well that’s new_. It’s only really happened once before, not all that long ago, with Jimmy and Shane. Beth rears bag and slams her fist into the mirror over the sink. It cracks, and she screams, a feral whale that shakes the walls. She punches the mirror again and it shatters, as does she. She slides to the floor barely registering the cool burn over her left wrist. Its not until she raises her hands to cradle her face that she sees the crimson stain that covers her trembling hand. She watches as the flow reverses and multiple streaks race toward her elbow. She grabs a towel and wraps it tightly around her wrist as Maggie begins pounding on the door, screaming her name over and over again. Beth opens the door and immediately apologizes for breaking the mirror.

“Beth! What have you done?!” Maggie stares at her in disbelief. There’s an accusation in her tone, and there is also fear. There’s a whole lot of fear. Isn’t she tired of being scared? Beth sure as hell is.

“I punched the mirror. I’m sorry… I just…”

“Daddy!” Maggie screams…

***

Beth’s standing at the foot of her mama’s grave, yellow wildflowers in hand. The stitches in her wrist are starting to itch. Daddy was right, the itch started this morning, day seven, just like he said. This is her third visit to her mama’s grave since she took out the mirror upstairs. Beth steps forward and lays the wildflower bundle, tied neatly together with kitchen string, at the base of the rudimentary cross that marks her mama’s resting place. Her eyes drift to the fresh mound of clay next to it. Shawn’s grave. A sudden memory of Beth and her brother fishing in the creek floats through her mind. She swipes at the wayward tears that escape the corner of her eye. Its then that a pair of dusty work boots appear next to her own dusty cowboy boots. “You a’ight?”

Beth sniffs and nods. Daryl surprises her when he angles her way and lifts her hand to inspect the bandage covering her wrist. His eyes cut to hers, silently demanding an explanation. Beth opens her mouth to speak but hesitates. She knows that Maggie still thinks she cut herself on purpose. She tried to explain to her why she punched the mirror. Tried to convince her of the truth, that the cut was an accident, but she doesn’t think Maggie believes her. Daryl swipes his thumb over her palm and Beth finds the confidence to speak. “I punched the mirror in my bathroom. Punched it twice. Cut my wrist on one of the shards.”

Daryl is chewing on the inside of his lip, mulling over Beth’s explanation. “You cut it on purpose?”

Beth shakes her head. “Didn’t even know I’d done it until I looked down and saw the blood. Maggie tell you I did it on purpose?”

“Nah. Just wonderin’,” he says, seemingly satisfied she’s given him the truth, and lets go of her hand. “Healin’ up okay?”

“Yeah. Stitches come out in a couple of days.” Daryl nods and starts workin’ on the inside of his lip again.

The silence is comfortable, but Beth would be lyin’ if she said she didn’t like the sound of his voice. “Carol okay?”

Daryl shrugs. “Aint easy”

“No, it aint.”

Another minute ticks by in silence. Its Beth that interrupts the quiet again. “You alright?”

Daryl bristles at her question. “Why wouldn’t I be a’ight?”

Its Beth’s turn to shrug. “You spent all that time looking for that little girl. I know you and Carol are close,” she all but whispers.

Daryl relaxes a little. Something about this girl smooths his edges. “I’m good.”

Beth nods and turns her attention back to her mama’s grave. Daryl surprises them both when he asks her if she’s had any more trouble from Shane. “He aint been acting right lately. Somethin’s up. Just stay away from him, ya hear?”

“Not a problem,” Beth assures him.

He looks at her a minute more and the hint of a smile begins to play at the corner of his lip.

“What?” Beth asks.

“You really punch a mirror hard enough to shatter it?”

Beth raises her still bruised knuckles for him to inspect. “Had to punch it twice, but yeah, it shattered.”

Daryl shakes his head and that hint of a smile grows just a little. “Wha’d that mirror ever do to you, girl?”

“Got in my way, I suppose,” Beth retorts and her chin jets up daring him to disagree.

Daryl snorts before backing away slowly and turning to go.

“Hey Daryl!” she calls.

He turns back to face her but doesn’t stop walking away. “You got a last name?”

Daryl scowls at her, but there’s no venom in his eyes. “Dixon. Name’s Daryl Dixon.”

Beth smiles. “I’ll see ya later, Mr. Dixon!”

Daryl spins on is heels and disappears around the RV.

“Daryl Dixon,” she says to herself. Rolls it around on her tongue. “Well that’s about as redneck as it comes,” she thinks. “I like it…”


	3. Shots Fired

Beth hears the first shot from her room upstairs. It sounds like the crack of a rifle, but she can’t be certain. She’s shot handguns and hunting rifles both, but she never paid attention to the distinctive sound each one makes when fired, not until recently. Not until shooting with Jimmy for fun became a steady aim, life or death situation. Not until this last year or better when shots fired has become a daily occurrence. She and Maggie hit the front porch at the same time. Patricia and her Daddy aren’t far behind. Although gun shots have become the norm, its been a relatively quiet couple of days, and a single shot after dark is more than a bit concerning.

The moon is as high as it gets, close and completely full, illuminating the fields and the barns and the makeshift community camp where their friends are living. Friends? Allies? Beth isn’t exactly sure what to call the group. She heads down the steps after Maggie. “You stay here,” Maggie shoots over her shoulder.

Beth pauses, but only briefly. “The hell with that,” she mumbles under her breath and takes off after her sister.

“Bethy!” she hears, but she doesn’t stop. “Elizabeth!” her daddy shouts again, but Beth keeps going. She knows she’ll be in trouble later, but Daddy needs to realize she isn’t a little girl anymore, and no one can protect her in this new world but herself. She may not be as tough as Maggie, but she’s done staying on the porch. 

She can see the group crowded together in a half circle. They’re all staring down at something on the ground in front of them. Andrea is on her knees. With the help of the moon, Beth can just make out the angel wings on Daryl’s back. He steps forward, in front of Rick, and his pale, sleeveless arm rises like a ghost. Another shot rings out. It’s louder in Beth’s ears than the last, but it doesn’t rattle like before. Maggie and Beth both stop. Everyone ahead looks away from what is lying on the ground before them. A soft “Nooo…” floats away on the wind. Daryl is the first to move. He walks away pointedly and disappears into the brush. Rick watches him go, and Beth beats back the overwhelming urge to go to him.

Beth and Maggie quietly join the group and find Dale dead in the grass, 30 yards or so from a dead and gutted cow. She realizes that Dale must have seen the poor thing suffering and put it down. Sweet Dale and his tender heart. Only to stir the dead and end up in the same miserable condition as the cow. Daryl must have been the one to put Dale down with that second shot. She is in awe of Daryl’s strength and compassion. She wonders what it must have cost him to step up and save the rest of the group the pain of shouldering such a responsibility. 

Beth offers to fetch a blanket so they can carry Dale back towards the house to bury him. She takes off at a run and finds her daddy waiting on the porch. 

“I know you heard me, Bethy. Please don’t ignore me like that again.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she says, and she means it, but she will not promise that it won’t happen again. “I’ve got to grab a blanket or something, to wrap Dale in. He’s dead.” 

If Hershel is shocked at his sweet baby girl’s matter-of-fact tone, it doesn’t show. Perhaps he is too preoccupied with Dale’s death. “What happened?” he manages before Beth disappears inside. 

“He put one of the cows down. Looked like a walker got her. Guess that same walker got Dale too.”

Hershel’s brow furrows, but he says nothing else. Beth disappears into the house and is back in a flash, racing past Hershel to get the thick flannel sheet she grabbed to the group. When she arrives, her eyes search for Daryl, but he is nowhere to be found. Beth and the others follow along as Shane and Rick carry Dale’s body back toward the house. Hershel directs them to the same area where Annette and Shawn were laid to rest not quite three weeks ago.

They all take turns digging and standing watch. The appearance of a single walker, sometimes three or four, is increasing in frequency. She heard Rick talking to her daddy about it a couple of days ago. 

With that in mind, Beth keeps scouring what she can see of the farm, searching for Daryl. Her eyes sweep across the field where she last saw him. Around the hay barn, over and around the RV, by the fire in front of the tents. Andrea and Rick carry a large stone and place it gently at the head of Dale’s grave. Daddy says a quick word and a prayer. Beth sees Maggie squeeze Glenn’s hand, then she motions for Beth to walk with her back to the house. Beth takes one last look over her shoulder. Nothing.

It’s a few hours later, and Beth is just tucking herself into bed when she hears a knock on her open window. Jimmy always does this when he owes her an apology. He thinks it’s a big, romantic gesture. Romeo climbs the big oak to her bedroom window. How could she refuse? Beth rolls her eyes and turns her back to the window. Jimmy has tried everything he can think of in the last few weeks to get back in her good graces.

“Beth! Girl, you ‘wake?” Beth’s eyes pop open when she hears the gruff rumble of Daryl’s whisper-shout. She is tangled in the bed sheet and nearly screams in frustration trying to break free. Daryl is perched on the 2x4 planks nailed to the thick, sturdy branches of the ancient oak just outside her bedroom window. Beth’s tree house is really no more than an undulating floor framed by planked, 3-foot walls. It’s more like a bridge from her room to the oak’s trunk, not more than 4-foot wide at any point. Her ceiling is a canopy of leaves. It has always been one of her favorite places on earth. It is here she played her guitar, composed her music, put her thoughts down on paper in her old, warn out journal. Now, it’s where Daryl waits for her to join him. She climbs out through the window and grabs the branch above her to pull herself upright. “Careful, girl,” he grumbles, and steadies her with a light touch to her hips. The contact is brief. A pained expression crosses his face, and he quickly retreats. Beth smiles and goes to sit next to him, their backs resting against the tree trunk. It’s a tight fit. Their shoulders and thighs press against one another. The heat from Daryl seeps into her bones, warming her from head to toe.

Daryl is chewing on the inside of his lip, eyes locked on the crossbow in his lap. “Can I hold it?”

Daryl’s head whips around to face her. “What?”

Beth’s smile is mischievous when she meets his eyes. “Your crossbow. Can I hold it?”

“Hummmm,” His eyes squint, and he searches her face. Beth wonders if she will be deemed worthy of the privilege. 

“Well, Mr. Dixon, you gonna’ show it to me or not?”

He rolls his eyes and lifts the bow from his lap. Beth reaches for it, but he blocks her with his arm. “Slow down there, grabby pants. Don’t need you accidently firin’ a bolt into that fancy guitar in there.” He occupies himself with removing the loaded bolt and checking the safety.

“It ain’t fancy,” she huffs. “It’s old and beat up…” An errant thought crosses her mind. “How do you know I have a guitar in my room?”

“Uh duno,” he shrugs. “You wan’a see this thing or not,” he grouses.

Beth full on giggles at that. She nods and waits for Daryl to pass her the crossbow. He holds it just over her outstretched thighs and Beth slowly lifts her hands to take the weight of it. Its heavier than she imagined. She’s seen him shoot. He makes it look so easy.

“Here,” he says. “You right-handed?” Beth nods. There isn’t room for Daryl to shift and take the weight of the bow while Beth adjusts her hands. So, without thinking about it too much, he lifts his arm and circles her shoulder. Beth angles into him. “Switch yer hands. Put yer right one here, next to the trigger. Put your left one here. Underhanded… Now bring it up to yer shoulder and snug it in tight against ya’”

Beth lifts the bow as she is instructed. Her hands are shaking, but it ain’t from the weight of the bow. Daryl ducks his head and they are cheek to cheek. He slides his fingers under her trigger hand to help her steady the weapon. He points to the scope with his other hand. “Look through that lil’ square there to aim.”

Beth closes one eye and leans toward the scope. The bow falls away from her shoulder as she does. Daryl pulls it back to her and, in doing so, pulls Beth snuggly against him. She draws in a shaky breath.

“ ‘Ats good. Take a deep breath, aim, let it out slow, and fire.” 

Beth’s pulse is slamming in her ears. As close as Daryl is right now, she’s sure he can hear it too. 

“Go ahead and squeeze the trigger,” he whispers. His breath teases the hair around her face, and it dances across her cheek. 

“One steady motion.” 

She feels the timber of his voice in his chest as it rises to scrape across the gravel in his throat. He swallows hard, and Beth shivers. 

“It ain’t loaded. I got the safety on.”

Beth pulls back on the trigger and imagines she’s just killed her first walker. She looks over her shoulder and graces Daryl with a smile so big and bright it nearly knocks him back. “Thank you,” she whispers sincerely. 

Daryl stares a second longer than he should. Beth blinks, and the spell is broken. He shakes his head and pulls his arm from around her shoulder. He takes his crossbow back and starts to stand. Beth grabs his forearm. 

“Wait! Where you goin’?”

Daryl stills, clearly conflicted on whether to go or stay. He finally relaxes and sinks back down next to Beth. The crossbow goes back to his lap and the cuticle of his thumb goes to his teeth. Beth reaches for his hand and pulls it back from his mouth. “You’ll make it bleed.” 

He doesn’t fight her on it. She lets go of his hand and shifts so that she’s somewhat facing him. She tucks her knees under her chin and wraps her arms tightly around her legs.

“So, did you want to talk to me about somethin’?”

Daryl’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t answer.

Beth’s eyebrows lift, encouraging him to speak. When he doesn’t, she lowers her knees and rests them lightly on his thigh. She thinks she knows why he is here. Why he climbed the tree to find her. So, she screws up her courage and takes that bet. “I’m sorry about Dale.” He flinches, but she carries on. “He seemed like a good man. I’m glad you were there so he didn’t have to suffer.”

Daryl studies her, teeth working on the inside of his lip. “Ain’t never killed nobody before.” 

Beth gives him a small, comforting smile. “It’s not like you killed him out ‘a meaness, Daryl… You didn’t even really kill him. You showed him mercy… Let him go quick instead of sufferin’ and comin’ back as one of those things. I know he’s grateful for that.”

“You don’t think I’m some heartless, redneck som’ bitch for what I done?” 

The shame in his eyes nearly breaks Beth’s heart in half. He wears his guilt like a badge. 

“Daryl… I saw what it did to ya’ to pull that trigger. I think ya’ got a bigger heart in there…“ she says and lightly taps his chest, “than yer willin’ to let folks see.”

Beth is stunned when he covers her hand and gently presses her fingers against his chest. The allegro appassionato of his heart shocks her. She graces him with a sweet, tender smile. 

He thinks her smile will someday be his undoing.

They share the moment, neither quite sure what all of this means. Daryl squeezes her hand and clears his throat. “I should get back. Gotta’ take watch.” 

He stands and extends a hand to Beth. She takes it, and he lifts her effortlessly to her feet. She nods and walks past him to her window. 

“Beth,” he says. 

She straddles the window seal and looks back to him. 

“Get a pack together. Somethin’ ya’ can run with. Socks, sweatshirt, food, whatever ya’ think ya’ need. Keep it handy. Anythan’ happens to this place, I’ll find ya’. Keep ya’ safe.”

She smiles again, but he can see the worry in her eyes. “I know ya’ will. I’ll get a bag together, but I think yer worryin’ for nothin’. We’re good here.”

He doesn’t argue, but he doesn’t agree with her either. Something’s coming. He can feel it. 

“Goodnight, Daryl,” she says before disappearing through the window.

He waits a beat before shimmying back down the tree. He’s not sure what this girl is doing to him exactly, but he doesn’t hate the way he feels when he’s around her. He does know that he meant what he said. Anything happens, and he’ll find her. He’ll keep her safe or dye trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little more of the two of them figuring things out. This is new territory for Daryl. I/m having fun watching him navigate toward and around Beth. Thanks for reading! Comments are so very much appreciated!!


	4. Now We Run!

Beth finds him out by the shed where her Daddy keeps the tractor. Daryl’s been spending a lot of time in there. Tinkering with some of the old equipment in the back. Taking things apart, putting them back together again. He’s going a little stir crazy. Needs a job, something to do. It’s been a week or better since he and Beth sat and talked up in her treehouse. He wonders if she knows he’s been avoiding her. Wonders what he was thinking, climbing that tree to her bedroom window like some crazy creeper. He thinks about what he promised her. He still means it. He’ll protect her with everything he has. He just can’t believe he told her he would. Can’t believe he said it out loud. Can’t believe he said _anything_ he said that night. It ain’t like him. He really can’t believe he touched her like he did. Puttin’ his arm around her. Pullin’ her against him like that. More than anything… he can’t believe she let him. 

She’s in his head now. He’s got Merle in one ear, (Merle’s always in his head. Giving him grief), and Beth in the other. He’s got Rick runnin’ stuff by him ‘fore he makes any decisions for the group. Always askin’ his opinion. Acts like Daryl’s his right-hand man or some crazy shit. Walsh is always in his ass about somethin’. Then there’s Carol. She calls him Pookie. What the hell? But, damn, if it doesn’t bother him like it should. He’s never had friends like this. Family, like this. It’s making him crazy. It’s some messed up shit that the world ends, and he finds his best life right square in the middle of it.

He hears her holler at Maggie. Knows she’s close. He wipes his hands on the bandanna he keeps in his back pocket and ambles out into the open. He pretends like it’s a happy accident when she stumbles across him. She’s humming again. Some cheery little tune he thinks he might recognize if he concentrates.

“Hey, Daryl,” she half sings, like she just figured out his name is part of that song she’s humming.

He lifts his chin and keeps wiping his hands. Just a happy accident.

“Where’ve you been the last few days?” It’s not an accusation. And it’s not like she’s trying to get in his business. It’s more like she missed him. Maybe. Or maybe he’s bein’ a dumbass. Merle would say he’s bein’ a dumbass.

“Been takin’ night watch. Huntin’ early. Sleepin’ durin’ the day.”

“Oh. Thought maybe you were avoidin’ me,” she teases.

Daryl freezes. He’s not gonna’ lie to her. He may be a lot ‘a shitty things, but liar ain’t one of ‘em. “You got a knife?” 

“ _Where the hell did that come from_ ,” he wonders.

“What,” she says, as confused by his redirect as he is.

“A knife, girl. You keep a knife on ya?’”

“o’ course,” she says smilin’, and pulls out her little pocket knife. He wonders how anything of any substance fits in the pocket of those tight jeans she's so fond of wearing.

“Ya’ ain’t gonna’ kill no walker with ‘at piss ant thing. You got a buck knife?”

Beth purses her lips into a little pout. Daryl’s seen her do it more than once, when she’s thinkin’. He thinks he wants to keep her thinkin’. “Shawn had a Bowie knife. I think it’s upstairs in his room.”

“Go get it. I’ll teach ya’ how to throw.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes grow wide, impossibly wide. Daryl grouses at her to keep from smiling. 

He flings his wrist at her, shooshin’ her along. “Hurry up, girl. Ain’t got all day.”

Beth giggles and takes off at a run toward the house. She misses the little smile that ghosts across his teeth. He’s lost in the way her ponytail bounces when she runs, thinking about things he probably shouldn’t be thinking about. Too lost to notice Shane leaning against the shed.

“Ain’t that just the sweetest thang I ever saw…”

Daryl whips around, at the ready. Shane is chewing on a long piece of hay, feet crossed at the ankles, a smug look plastered on his face.

Daryl doesn’t speak. He figures it’s best to let Walsh say his peace and move on. Beth has already warned him about fighting with Walsh. She said it scares her. Called Walsh a chicken shit. She’s afraid he might come after Daryl when he ain’t expecting it. 

“She is a fine piece of ass, Hershel’s baby girl… Huh… I bet you think you’re just the redneck ass hole to tap that ass too, don’t ‘cha, sparky?”

“I’m warnin’ you Walsh… you better shut the hell up ‘fore I do it for ya’”

Shane laughs. It’s a heavy snort, condescending. Daryl’s hands ball into fists at his sides. “You afraid her daddy might overhear? Ol’ Hershel ain’t gonna’ take too kindly to a piece a’ shit like you puttin’ yer’ filthy hands anywhere near his sweet baby girl...” He huffs again. Tosses the strip of hay to the ground and spits. “Nah, I don’t reckon he’s gonna’ like that at all…” Shane pushes lazily off the side of the shed. “You be sure and tell that sweet little peach... when she’s done slummin’ it, come find me. I’ll show her what a real man feels like…”

It takes every bit of self-control Daryl can muster not to beat Shane’s ass, right where he stands. He only lets him walk away because he knows Beth will be back any minute. Because he promised her, he wouldn’t do anything stupid. Especially with Walsh. He doesn’t want her to find him in another tussle with Walsh’s stupid ass. She’d wanna’ know why they were fightin', and he ain’t ready to go there. So, he lets him saunter away. 

Beth is back in a flash. She slides to a stop when she sees Shane. He runs his eyes up and down the length of her. Nods. Keeps on walking.

“What did he want?”

“Nothin’,” Daryl says, working his fingers at his sides. “Jus’ bein’ a asshole like always.”

Beth scowls in Shane’s direction before turning back to Daryl. “Look what I found,” she says and shows him three, fixed blade, hunting knives. “I like this one the best,” she says and hands Daryl the two discarded knives. She pulls a shiny Bowie knife from its leather sheath. She flips is over in her palm and presents it to Daryl. It has an ornate pearl handle and a long, sharp, metal blade. “It’s pretty. Don’t ‘cha think? I have no idea where Shawn would have gotten’ such a thing. Or why. I mean it’s too pretty to be a huntin’ knife, right?”

Daryl hums his reply. He finds himself, again, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at his upper lip, escape. He can feel her looking at him. Waiting for him to agree. But he keeps his chin tucked and his head down, pretending to inspect the knife. “Differn’t a’ight.” He looks up to find her smiling. Proud of her three-knife haul. “You keep that sheath hooked to yer’ belt. Keep that knife on ya’ all the time.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Dixon”

“Knock that shit off,” he fires back. 

Beth just giggles at him. Doesn’t matter how much he scowls at her; girl sees right past it.

“Come on,” he says.

Beth is sore and tired when she finally heads to her room. Daryl taught her how to hold her knife at the ready. How to adjust her grip depending on what or who she was up against. Hold it this way to kill a walker. This way if a person is the threat. He had her stabbing at the air, first this way, then that way, learning how to protect herself. He also showed her how to spin out of a hold if somebody grabbed her. Where to kick. How to use her speed. How to throw a throat punch, and how to break a guy’s nose with the heel of her hand. She liked that part, the touching part. Even if he was playing the role of the attacker. Hard to concentrate though when he had his hands on her. After that, he’d had her throwing knives for an hour. He promised he would help her again, sometime soon. “ _Finally, something to look forward to_ ,” she thinks. 

Beth spends some time in her tree house, writing in her journal. It’s good to have something fun to write about for once. She likes Daryl. She can admit that. But it’s different than when she’d first started liking Jimmy. She likes talking with Daryl, even if she’s the one doing most of the talking. He listens. She thinks he really sees her. More than just what’s on the outside. She thinks they’re friends, thinks Daryl would agree. That’s enough for now. He reminds her of one of her old barn cats. She doesn’t want to spook him. Beth reasons that Daryl is probably a guy who takes things slow. He’s a hot head, yeah, but she bets he’s cautious when he cares. She’s noticed how gentle he is with her. How kind he was to Carol. How determined he was to find Sophia. How he held on to Carol when they found her little girl. How he chooses his words. Protects his new family. She sees his heart and how he protects that too. Yeah, she can admit she likes Daryl Dixon. But only to herself. Only on paper in her journal.

***

Beth thinks she hears a gunshot way off in the distance. It’s a handgun. She’s certain it’s a handgun. She’s getting pretty good at telling the difference. It’s late, like the night Dale died. Too late for a gunshot. Too far away. Further out than the perimeter Daryl and the others usually patrol. Beth sits perfectly still, straining to hear above the noise of her own breathing. It’s so quiet at night in this new world. Sometimes, after the sun sets, and everyone has settled into their silent routines, all she can hear is the rise and fall of her own chest. 

She goes back to writing in her journal. Daryl has promised to teach her how to make jerky if he can snag a deer the next time he goes hunting. She lists the things he told her they will need and makes some sketches of how she imagines the lay out will look:

-stones to build the fire pit -charcoal and the metal grate from the old grill -something to hold the grate at least 2 foot over the fire -a tarp and something to hold the tarp up like a teepee around the fire. 

He said it would take about 4 hours to dry. Beth decides she’ll start first thing in the morning. She’ll be ready when he brings home a deer. The backpack Daryl told her to assemble is next to her bed. She slides her journal in the side pocket and leans back on her pillows. It’s then that she hears a muffled rumble. Like a freight train approaching from miles away. Her head swivels to her open window. She concentrates on the noise. Independent of the swarming rhythm, she can make out singular moans and growls. She sits back up, the rise of panic thrumming in her veins. “ _How could one of those things have gotten so close to the house?”_ A shotgun blast nearly knocks her off her bed. She propels herself through the door and takes off down the stairs.

Beth nearly slams into Patricia on the way down. “Beth! Beth, they’re here… Your Daddy… I… I.” Beth grabs her hand and pulls her to the front porch. Shotgun blast after shotgun blast rings in Beth’s ears. 

“Hershel! Hershel!! We have to go!! We have to go now!!” Lori is crushing Carl to her side, screaming for Hershel to stop shooting and run. There are too many of them. The dead are everywhere, snapping and growling. The roar is so loud, Beth can hardly think. She looks out across the farm. The barn is on fire. Shots are coming from every direction. She thinks about Daryl. “ _Get a pack together. Be ready to run.”_ Beth spins on her toes and takes off upstairs. She grabs a sweatshirt and yanks it over her head. Snatches the backpack and the tightly rolled sleeping bag and blanket next to it. Her eyes land on her guitar. She wants so badly to grab it too, but it isn’t practical, and another piece of her heart breaks. 

Beth secures the backpack in place on her way back down and yanks her hair up into a messy bun. When she reaches the porch, Lori and Carl are running for the old, blue, farm truck. T-dog is behind the wheel. Lori is screaming for Hershel and Patricia to follow. Daddy refuses. This is his farm. Has been his family’s farm for generations. He won’t let it go without a fight. Patricia is un-moving, paralyzed by fear. Beth grabs her hand and yanks her down the steps. Two walkers find a burst of speed and Patricia is jerked away by her hair. Beth lurches forward, reaching for Patricia. She can’t help the screams that tear from her chest. She has seen what the monsters can do, the aftermath. But the scene has never unfolded in front of her like this. Patricia is reaching back for Beth, eyes wide with terror. Her mouth opens and closes, but no sound makes its way out. She finds purchase on Beth’s wrist. Reflex tightens her hold to a vice like grip. Her nails are cutting into Beth’s skin. The attack is gruesome. Far beyond anything Beth could have ever imagined. They’re fast and efficient, these monsters. The ones at the barn had moved so slowly. Almost lazy in their pursuit. A part of her had felt sorry for them then. Not these. These monsters are frenzied and vicious. Single-minded in their mission to kill. One bite and Patricia’s neck is nothing more than a bloody, gaping hole. There is no way to help her now. It’s a struggle, but Beth finally pulls herself free. She loses her balance. Stumbles back. It is T-dog that catches her. 

“Get in!” he screams. Beth takes off for the passenger side door. She calls to her daddy, begging him to come with her, but her pleas fall on deaf ears. She slides into the truck and slams the door. Somehow, she has managed to hang on to her sleeping bag roll. Lori and Carl are huddled together in the front seat. She grabs Carl’s hand and waits to see what Hershel will do. T-Dog calls to Hershel again, begging him to leave. Hershel is unwavering in his mission to protect the farm. T-Dog can’t wait any longer. He jumps in behind the wheel and they are off. They dodge walker after walker on their way across the yard. Beth can’t bring herself to look out the back window. She can’t watch her daddy disappear the same way Patricia did. 

She is scouring the farm, looking for Daryl. Looking for Maggie. Looking through the passenger side window for any movement from the living. She is caught completely off guard when the truck slips and slams to a sudden stop. Her shoulder rams the dashboard, and her head slams into the oh-shit handle. They’ve slipped into the culvert that runs parallel to the barbed wire fence. Beth opens the door and pulls Carl with her. Lori and T-Dog follow. She sees the big red suburban pulling away from the barn. She climbs on top of the truck and starts waving her arms. Carl goes with her. The suburban makes an abrupt turn and heads in their direction. It is then that she hears the deep rumble of a motorcycle. Daryl is on the other side of the fence.

“Beth! Come on!” His arms are outstretched in front of him and he’s waving his hands wildly. Beth half hops, half slides from the roof of truck to the bed. She tosses her bedroll to Daryl then climbs on top of the fence post. He grabs her about the waist and hauls her down to him. His big hands fly to either side of her face. He is everywhere, all at once, eyes scanning her for injury… for bites. “You hurt?!”

She grabs his forearms. “No… I… I’m good.” 

Daryl remembers to breath. His forehead drops to hers for the briefest of moments. “You’re with me,” he says. He grabs her hand and pulls her toward his motorcycle. 

“Wait!” she shouts and turns back for her bedroll. She grabs it and runs for the bike. Daryl is popping the kick stand up, looking over his shoulder, watching her every move. Beth throws her leg over the seat, secures the bedroll over her lap, and scoots in close behind Daryl. They watch T-Dog, Lori and Carl pile into the suburban with Rick, Carol, and Hershel. “Thank, God,” Beth whispers when she sees the white wisps of her Daddy’s hair.

The suburban takes off, headed for the main road. “Hold on,” Daryl calls over his shoulder. Beth balls the hem of his shirt into each fist and presses her knuckles to his sides. When Daryl kicks it in gear, Beth’s arms slip around his middle and her cheek presses to his back. She won’t look at the farm… her home in ruin… she can’t. When they get to the end of road, Maggie and Glenn are waiting. Daryl doesn’t slow the bike as they approach the small, mint green Hyundai. They fall in line behind the suburban, Daryl and Beth leading the way.

Beth isn’t sure how long they’ve been on the road when she sees the suburban pass and feels the motorcycle slow to a stop. Maggie and Glenn pull up next to the bike. Maggie reaches for Beth through the window. The sisters’ fingers interlace, and Beth squeezes Maggie’s hand. “We’re okay,” Beth says. “We’re gonna’ be okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, the farm is no more. Hope you enjoyed my spin on the events of the fall. Thanks for reading! Comments greatly appreciated. I'm open to any and all suggestions.


	5. In the Early Morning Breeze

Rick bangs on the front door and everyone waits. No groans. No shuffling. He kicks it in, and Daryl crosses the threshold, crossbow at the ready. Glenn and Maggie are at the rear, covering their asses. They file in, one by one, and clear the house. It’s the same every time. For six days now, they’ve been kicking down doors. There are so many walkers. It’s almost surreal. They drive. They siphon gas from abandoned cars. They find another house. They kill more walkers. So far, they’ve been lucky. They’ve been blessed with food and shelter. Beth picks up things here and there to add to her backpack. They all have a bedroll now. Plenty of clean underwear. And layers for the winter. 

Nobody has said much since Rick’s outburst. He made it clear that this is “not a democracy.” The bombshell he dropped… The one about everyone having the virus. The one where he said you don’t have to get bit to come back as one of those things. That bombshell has had everybody contemplating just how big this thing really is. All-encompassing. For some reason, Beth had it in her head that this would all die down. That when it did, they would venture out. Maybe go North. Find a place unaffected by biters. She knows now that no such place exists. Not if you don’t have to be bit to turn. They haven’t come across any more people either. Beth thinks that’s the worst part. Maybe this group, her new family, is all that’s left.

They are sitting in the living room of a new home. No furniture. No appliances. She wonders about the owners. They must have had two kids. A boy and a girl. One of the bedrooms upstairs is painted pale yellow, like her room at the farm. The other is deep blue. She wonders if the kids picked out the colors themselves. Wonders how old they were. Assumes they’re dead. " _It was gonna’ be a beautiful home_ ," she thinks. She’s sitting in the window seat under the big picture window overlooking the side yard. She feels a shove on her shoulder. Daryl lifts his chin and walks backwards away from her, only turning when she gets up to follow. She’s been riding with him some on the back of the motorcycle and riding with Maggie and Glenn some in the SUV. But they haven’t had any time to talk. The family is always together. Everyone is so damn quiet most of the time. 

Beth follows Daryl to the screened in back porch. Beth thinks again that this was going to be a beautiful home. “How you doin’,” he asks.

His question catches her off guard. It seems out of place. Out of character for the asker. Maybe both. Beth snorts. A quick giggle. She isn’t sure why it strikes her as funny, but it does. She shakes her head and sighs. “I’m good, I guess. As good as I can be.”

Daryl nods and starts chewing on his thumb nail. 

“You okay,” Beth asks in turn.

He nods again. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m good… There’s a decent patch of woods behind this neighborhood. I’m goin’ huntin’ in the mornin’.”

“By yourself,” she asks, a little panicked by the notion of him being out there all alone.

“Yeah… I’ll be fine. I jus’… I jus’ wanted to let ya’ know where I’ll be.”

“I’m glad ya’ did. Thank you. But don’t ya’ think ya’ ought ta’ take somebody with ya’? Just in case?”

Daryl shrugs and takes a keen interest in his boots. “What, you wanna’ come?”

Beth opens her mouth to…

“Daryl.” Beth spins and sees Rick leaning through the door. “Need you two in the living room. Group meeting.”

He waits for them to follow. Daryl wonders what Beth’s answer would have been. Beth wonders that too.

Maggie has started a small fire in a trash can in the middle of the room. The days are still warm and humid, but the nights are getting cool. Everyone is sitting around the fire on the edge of their bedrolls, waiting to hear what Rick has to say. Daryl goes to the window seat where he found Beth before. Beth heads to her usual spot next to Maggie. 

Rick apologizes for his outburst from days ago. He says he should have told everyone about the virus from the beginning, but he was afraid it would kill their hope. He isn’t wrong. Beth’s perspective shifted the instant Rick told them the truth. She still has hope, but that hope survives on a much smaller scale now. He says they're gonna' stay around here. Keep moving house to house in this general area for now. Try to find a place to settle into for the winter. Everyone nods whether they agree or not. 

Hershel speaks up. Reminds everyone to keep hope alive. Then Maggie asks Beth to sing. She shakes her head. No way is that gonna’ happen.

“Please, Beth,” Maggie says and nods her head in encouragement.

“Maggie. No one wants to hear me sing right now.” Her back is to Daryl. Part of her wonders what he’s thinking. All of her is glad she can’t see his face.

“Sing, baby girl. Just one song. It would make us all feel better,” Hershel says.

“Daddy,” Beth scolds and hushes him with a look.

“Please,” Lori says quietly from across the fire. “You have a beautiful voice, Beth. I’ve heard you sing. We could all use a little upliftin’ right about now.”

Beth’s eyes dart around the circle. Everyone is nodding and smiling, and Beth feels like she doesn’t really have a choice.

“All right,” she says quietly. She looks around at her new family, thinking on what she should sing. An old Dolly Parton song pops into her head. One her grandma used to sing. Beth clears her throat and begins softly humming the opening chords 

I open up my door to greet the early   
morning sun

Closing it behind me and away I do run

To the meadow where the meadowlark   
is singing in the tree

In the meadow I go walkin’

In the early mornin' breeze

I cup my hands to catch a multi-colored   
butterfly

Perched upon the petals of flowers   
growing wild

Freeing it I watch it as it flies away   
from me

To visit with the flowers in the early   
mornin' breeze

Beth watches as first one then another start to sway with the melody. She had planned to stop after the first bit or two of the song. But everyone seems to be enjoying her singing. She wants so badly to turn around and look at Daryl. To try and gage what he might be thinking. The tail end of a blanket floats to the floor next to her. She keeps singing, but she turns her head to see Daryl plop down next to her on what passes as his bedroll. His lip jumps in a quick smile before he lays back with a grunt. Beth smiles to herself and keeps on singing. 

Rainbow colored flowers kissed with   
early morning sun

The aster and the dahlia and the wild   
geraniums

Drops of morning dew still lingers on   
the iris leaves

In the meadow where I’m walkin’

In the early mornin' breeze.

Carl scoots down on his bed and lays his head in Lori’s lap. Rick stops his pacing and sits down next to her. They look at each other a little differently than they have in the last few weeks. Soft and kind. Rick visibly relaxes. Runs his hand up and down Lori’s back. So, Beth keeps singing. She thinks that maybe this is what she can contribute to the group. A small reprieve from their harsh new reality.

Misty-eyed I look about the meadow   
where I stray

For its there I find the courage to greet   
the coming day

For there among the flowers I kneel   
gently to my knees

And I have a word with God in the early   
mornin' breeze

A rainbow colored meadow kissed with   
early morning sun

The aster and the dahlia and the wild   
geraniums

Drops of morning dew still linger on the   
iris leaves

In the meadow where I’m walkin’

In the early mornin' breeze

In the meadow where I'm walkin'

In the early mornin' breeze

It’s so quiet when Beth stops singing. Maggie squeezes her hand. “Thanks, Bethy,” she whispers. Everybody either nods or smiles at Beth before tucking in for the night. Rick stands and heads back to the front door. Hershel follows. They'll take first watch. Daryl will take over in a few hours while the rest of them sleep. They are on a rotation. Two shifts each night. Daryl usually takes watch alone. Maggie and Glenn take a shift together. Carol and T-Dog. Rick and Hershel. Beth stayed up with Maggie and Glenn last time even though she hasn’t been assigned an official shift. She tried not to let it bother her. Knows most of them still see her as a kid. She knows too that she isn’t ready to take on a walker, not by herself. But she can shoot as straight as the rest of em’. That she is sure of. She lays back on her blanket and turns on her side to face Daryl. There's a low murmur of conversation within the group. Nobody is ready to slip off to sleep quite yet.

“Daryl,” she whispers. “You awake?”

He is lying on his back, one arm stretched out next to him, the other thrown over his eyes. He drops that one and turns his head to face her. 

“Naw, not yet.”

“Would you mind wakin’ me for your shift? I mean, if you don’t mind the company?”

He looks at her for a minute. He’s thinking. Beth almost tells him to never mind, but then he nods his head. “Yeah, I’ll wake ya’... Maybe you can sing some more or somethin'.”

Beth is shocked. She feels the heat flush across her chest and cheeks. She smiles, ear to ear. “Thanks.”

“Yeah… Goodnight, Beth.”

“Goodnight,” she whispers, and Daryl throws his arm back over his eyes.

It feels like she has just slipped into sleep when a rough nudge to her shoulder startles her awake. Daryl is squatting down next to her. He stands up as soon as he sees her eyes pop open and disappears out the front door. Beth grabs her hoodie and her boots and carries them out to the porch.

"Thanks for wakin' me."

He's leaning against the post by the steps, feet crossed at the ankles, sharp gray eyes watching her. He nods once, a delayed, "your welcome," and turns his head to survey the neighborhood. Beth heads to the post on the other side of the steps and starts pulling on her boots. They stand in amiable silence, listening to the quiet of this new world after dark. 

"You doin' a'right," he asks her again. He's chewing on his cuticle when Beth looks over.

She shrugs a single shoulder. "Yeah, I guess…"

Beth wipes at a small blood stain on the toe of her boot with the heel of her other boot. "I'm worried about Lori, ya' know? And the baby? How are we gonna' keep a baby alive? Hard enough with what we got now."

"Only gonna' get harder."

"Yeah. I know… I suppose we'll find a way... We'll just have to, right?" Beth isn't sure who she's trying to convince exactly, herself or Daryl. She doesn't like that he looks away without agreeing. It gives weight to her worry.

Daryl stands up straight and aims his crossbow. "Get behind me, girl."

Beth shoots across the steps and peeks over his shoulder. She's got the tail of his vest twisted in both fists. Daryl tracks a slow line with his bow, but Beth can't see anything other than black night out in front of them. He pulls the trigger and she hears a muffled "thump". 

"Stay here," he says and breaks away from her. He trots down the stairs and disappears into the dark. In the dim light of the quarter moon, Beth can just make out the angel wings on his back. He kicks at something on the ground then bends down. Beth loses him in the black. Seconds tick by, and she still can’t see him. She's considering running in the house, sounding the alarm bells, when he reappears in front of her, a little to the right of where she lost him. He's wiping a bolt clean across his thigh as he walks toward her. His crossbow is balanced on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. At the sight of him, her insides do a little flip flop. She shivers, though she's plenty warm in her hoodie and jeans.

"Two of 'em."

"Two?" Beth asks. 

"Walkers. Had 'a stab the second one."

Beth didn't see or hear anything before Daryl fired his bow. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Jus'… know when one of them things is near? Then shoot 'em in the dark. I didn't see anything."

"I didn’ see anything either."

"Then how the heck did ya' shoot it?"

Daryl shrugs. "Jus' did."

Beth shakes her head and huffs a little laugh. "We'd be in a heap 'a trouble without you, Daryl Dixon."

"Pffff," is his only answer. He lowers the bow to the porch and steadies it with his foot while he reloads. Beth watches the muscles in arms ripple and work. The way each individual muscle of his forearm pops with the strain of loading the crossbow. Daryl mistakes her attentiveness for curiosity. "Ya' put your foot in here," he says, "in the claw," and tilts the bow to show her the stirrup at the front end. "That plants it while ya' pull the string. Ya' gotta' pull with both hands, even and steady." 

Beth pulls her eyes from his arms to his profile. "You make it look easy."

"Naw, just been doin' it a long time."

Beth smiles at him. She wonders how anyone as fierce as Daryl can still be so humble, so self-conscious. She assumes it has something, maybe everything, to do with his upbringing. It's endearing and honest. Two more descriptors to add to the list of things she likes about Daryl Dixon.

They sit together, backs against the door, watching the shadows. Beth yawns and Daryl jabs her with his elbow. "You supposed to be helpin' me keep watch, girl. Can't be yawning and shit."

Beth giggles softly. "You're gonna' have to help keep me awake then."

Daryl stiffens a little beside her. Beth isn't sure what she said to make him uncomfortable, but she figures it's best not to let things get too awkward. She scoots away from him a little and turns so that her folded knees rest against his outstretched thigh. "Let's play a game."

"Ain't no good at games," he warns her.

"This one's easy. It's an icebreaker game."

"A what?"

"An icebreaker game. It's meant to help ya' get to know somebody."

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye and starts chewing on the inside of his lip.

"Don't worry. You don't gotta' answer anything you don't wanna' answer… okay?"

Daryl thinks for a second or two more and finally gives her a little nod. "a'ight. I'll try."

Beth's gentle, encouraging smile grows to a full-on toothy grin at his acquiescence.

"So, it's not so easy with just two people, but that's okay. We'll do the one-word-answer thing. I'll ask you a question and you answer with one word. Then you ask me, and I'll answer you with one word. You can only ask the same question back, once. After 5 questions each, you have to use the other persons answers in a sentence."

Daryl mulls it over, then puts his game face on, and nods.

"Okay. I'll go first… What's your middle name?"

Daryl scowls at her like she's just asked him to reveal his innermost secret. "...Wayne."

Beth smiles at that. Rolls it around on her tongue. "Daryl Wayne Dixon… I like it." 

Daryl thinks he likes it too the way Beth says it. 

"Your turn."

Daryl looks at her for the longest time, chewing on the inside of his lip. His eyes narrow and Beth thinks he might be worried he's gonna' do it wrong. Say the wrong thing. Piss her off somehow or, worse than that, say something stupid. Beth's heart aches at his insecurity. This amazing man in front her. This man who risked everything searching for a stranger's missing daughter. This man that can kill a walker practically blindfolded. This man that saved their collective ass more than once with fresh meat when, otherwise, they would have gone to bed hungry. This incredibly sweet, ruggedly handsome, honest and loyal man sitting next to her in the middle of the end of the world. 

"Want me to keep askin' you questions? You can jump in whenever you're ready?"

"hmmm," her purrs, and flicks his wrist. 

Beth takes that as a 'yes' and dives in. "What food do you miss more than anything?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Lasagna"

"Oh, yum! I love lasagna... Um... How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine"

"Favorite kind of movie"

"Western"

"Favorite drink"

"Beer"

"Favorite…"

"Hold up, girl. That's five. You gotta' make a sentence."

"Oh! Right!," Beth giggles. "You were payin' attention."

"I always pay attention." The heated way he says that simple sentence sends another shiver down Beth's spine.

His eyes are locked on hers. Beth stutters a little under the weight of his stare. "I, um…a sentence… um… Wayne - ate 29 - western - lasagnas - with his - beer. See, when you stop and make a sentence, it helps you remember better. I'll always know that you love lasagna… and beer… and westerns… and I'll know what to call you when I'm yellin' at ya' if you ever make me mad... Daryl Wayne Dixon! You better get your butt back here and face me like a man!... Oh, and I know how old ya' are now too. See how useful my little icebreaker game is!" 

Daryl sits there staring at her like maybe she's a lunatic. His upper lip keeps jumping like he wants to smile or maybe even laugh, but he holds it in check. "What's the matter with you, girl? You actin' like you done lost yer damn mind."

Beth shrugs. "Maybe I have, Daryl Wayne Dixon. Hard to say…"

He does laugh then. A short little snort followed by a tiny grin and a head shake.

"A'ight. My turn"

Beth sits up a little straighter. She's a bit surprised he's still willing to play along. "Fire away."

"Middle name"

"Leigh. L-e-i-g-h"

He narrows his eyes at her. Takes a minute to think it over. "Sweet or sour"

"Ummm, sweet"

He chews on that one for a minute too. "What 'ja wanna' do after high school?"

"Sing"

He's thinking again. That crease between his eyes is getting deeper. "Ah hell… I dunno what else to ask that you ain't already said."

"You can use my questions. I don't mind."

"Naw. Gonna' do this right… Car or truck?"

A wicked little, closed-lip grin stretches across Beth's teeth. "Motorcycle"

Daryl's gut does a weird little drop, like going over a hill too fast. He looks at her for a minute. Chews on the inside of his lip. One more question. Better make it count. "Best part of the day."

"Dawn. That's five. Let's hear that sentence, Mr Dixon."

"I told you to knock that shit off." 

Beth just giggles at him again. Same as the last time he said it.

Daryl takes a deep breath, like he's jumpin' in the deep end for the first time. Maybe he is. Right now, he's not even sure if he's comin' or goin'. " _This girl,"_ he thinks.

"A'ight," he says, and he looks at Beth. Makes sure he can trust her not to poke fun at him before he speaks. "Here goes… Sweet Elizabeth Leigh, L-e-i-g-h, sings to me on my motorcycle at dawn." He's ticked off her answers, word by word, with his fingers, one through five, watching his hand as he does. He looks at Beth through his eyelashes. Deep grey windows, open for the briefest second for her to peak through. 

"Oh..." Beth opens her mouth to say something else but simply smiles instead. Daryl shrugs at her. His upper lip jumps. A quick up-turn at the corner, and then it's gone. "That's a beautiful sentence, Daryl."

He hums in response. Beth studies him for a minute then scoots around a half turn so that she is shoulder to shoulder with him again against the door. It's quiet. She's warm in her hoodie. Almost too warm on the side pressed up against Daryl. And it's so dark outside. The longer they sit in this comfortable silence, the heavier Beth's eyelids start to grow. 

"How old are you, girl?"

Beth's eyes snap open. "Twenty. Just turned, best I can tell."

"Yeah? Happy Birthday."

"Thanks."

The familiar quiet stretches out between them, and Beth finds it impossible to keep her eyes open. Her head slips to the side and lands on Daryl's shoulder. When dawn arrives, Daryl reaches over and runs a finger down Beth's jaw. Her eyes flutter open. A humid fog is rising off the grass. Beth can see the two walkers Daryl put down last night crumpled next to each other on the front lawn. She wasn't lying when she said dawn was her favorite time of day. There's something about the joy the morning brings. She watches the light chase away the remnants of the dark. Next to her, Daryl cracks his neck and his back. He hops up and extends a hand to Beth. She takes it gladly and lets him tug her to her feet.

"Ain't lettin' ya' sleep on shift again, girl. That was a freebee. Ya' gonna' be my partner, ya' gotta' pull yer weight." Serious words with no venom in the delivery.

"Yer partner, huh," she says playfully. She figures she'll call him on it since they're getting' things straight and all.

"T-Dog's got Carol. Maggie's got Glenn. Rick's got Carl and Hershel. Reckon I could use somebody too. Just in case."

"Gotcha. Partners it is, Daryl Wayne…"

Daryl scowls at her. She's pretty sure he growls a little too. "Don't worry, goose. Your secrets are safe with me," she promises.

***

They never stay anywhere more than a couple of nights. Lori's belly grows a little more every day. Beth wonders sometimes if she will ever get the chance to feel what Lori is feeling. To carry a baby inside of her. Feel it kick at her insides. Know what it's like to have a baby and watch him or her grow. It wasn't all that long ago that conflicting dreams, one about going to college then settling down and raising a slew of kids and one about runnin' off to Nashville to play in dive bars and honkytonks caused her to worry about the path her future might take. She wonders which dream she would have chosen. Doesn't really matter now she supposes. Not when the only worry these days is finding food and shelter and safety. Not when her biggest fear is meeting her end at the bite of a creature she never imagined could exist. 

It's was a log hard winter. Spring hasn't treated them much better with all the rain. Beth thinks it's probably May by now. It feels like summer is peaking around the corner. Seven months, best she can figure, of bouncing around without ever really going anywhere. "Why are we staying so close to where we've already been," Beth asks. She and Daryl are sitting on his motorcycle waiting for the others to finish stretching their legs and load up. 

"I dunno. Rick thinks we ought 'a stay close to what we know."

"What da' you think?"

Daryl shrugs. "I reckon it's the same all over… Ain't never been across the state line so I don't really know. But we need to find a place to hole' up for a while. Some place we can defend. Sure as shit can't be haulin' no new born all over West Georgia."

"Yeah. Lori's gotta' be 'bout due by now."

Rick makes his way over to the two of them. "Couple more hours 'til dark. We're on a hill. Goes straight down to nothin' right there," he says pointing to a spot in the curve of the road. "If we pull the two vehicles up at an angle, we ought ta' be pretty well protected for the night."

Daryl nods and Rick steps back, heading to the suburban. When the camp is set and everybody is milling about within their makeshift cocoon, Rick spreads the roadmap out on the hood of the car. "I think it's time we think about leaving these parts. See what else is out there. Me and Hershel were talkin' 'bout headin' North, maybe toward DC. See if the east coast was hit as hard as the South."

Daryl nudges Beth. Angles his head to the side. She follows him away from the group. "I'm gonna' see if I can find some dinner in them woods. It's thin, but we might be able to snag a squirrel or two. You comin'?"

Beth can’t hardly believe what she's hearing. Daryl's only asked her once before to go huntin' with him, but she never got the chance to answer. They take watch shifts together. Beth rides on the back of his bike more often than not. They're an unofficial team at this point, but she's never gone huntin' with him before.

"Uh, yeah… yeah, let's go," she says bouncing on her toes.

She follows him across the road to the little patch of woods on the other side. He's right. It's a thin patch at best. They walk deeper in, still readily able to see their vehicles parked across the road. When they come out the other side, they step up onto the railroad tracks that parallel the highway. Across the tracks, they see The West Georgia Correctional Facility. The yard is teeming with walkers trapped between the inner gate and the outer gate. "That's a damn waste of space," Daryl says before he turns back for the woods.

"Wait," Beth says and grabs his arm. He spins back to stand beside her, but she doesn't let go of his arm. She's doing that pouty lip thing again. That thing she does when she's thinking. He suspects she doesn’t even realize she's still hangin' on to him. That's okay. He'll just stand here with his arm on fire. No big deal. He's content to let it burn him to the ground while she stands there thinkin'. And poutin'. And hangin' on to his forearm.

"We could clear a path into that yard. If we could get through that fence and pick off those walkers there," she says pointing to a group of 10 or so rambling bodies in the field, all dressed in gray jumpsuits. "we could close that gate and be protected…"

Daryl looks out over the field and sees exactly what Beth is talking about. "Damn."

Beth whips her head around to face him. He's smiling. It’s not a toothy grin, but his lips are definitely turned up at the corners. "What," she asks as a shy, little flush colors her cheeks. "Probably a stupid idea, huh."

"Naw. It ain't stupid. No tellin' what kind 'a shit they still got in there. Might be food enough to feed us fer years. If we can clear it, even part of it, we could protect it too. Ain't stupid at all, girl."

Beth graces him with a beautiful smile. It's enough to knock a man flat on his ass. Daryl has to step back to get his bearings. "Let's go get Rick."

Beth nods, still smilin' to beat the band, and they head back across the highway.

Thank you, Dolly for In the Early Morning Breeze!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't sure about this chapter. I'm afraid the big time jump might have been a little confusing. Hoping too that the dialogue is in character. This isn't meant to be a character study. It's more like, "a damn romance novel" Ha! Appreciate your thoughts ans comments!


	6. Choices and Changes

They cut through the fence and run down the long gravel road to the gate. Rick is barking orders. "Glenn… You, Maggie, Beth, and T-Dog draw the walkers over there. Daryl, you go back to the other tower. Carol… you and Hershel take that tower. Carl, go with 'em. Take your time, make the shot. We don't have a lot of ammo… I'll run for the gate."

Daryl grabs Beth's elbow on his way to the tower. "Don't put your hand through the fence. Let 'em come to you, then stick 'em through the eye. Got it?" His eyes are locked on hers. Dark gray, dilated, and deadly serious. Beth nods, and Daryl squeezes her elbow. His gaze lingers a second more before he turns and runs. 

It takes the rest of the day, but they take the yard. Then they take the block. There are men here. Five prisoners. Rick doesn’t trust them, but he uses them to learn the layout of the prison. He and Daryl and T-Dog go with them to the kitchen and down to the laundry. They open a supply closet full of walkers. One of the men, Tomas, their leader, tries to kill Rick in the middle of a skirmish. He throws a snapping walker at him. Then he tries to stab him. When the men return, there are three prisoners left. They will stay in A block for now. Daryl warns Beth and Carol to stay away from them. 

They take stock of the food inventory. Discover there is clean, running water. Mend and reinforce the fences. C-Block will be their new home. They each take a stack of bedding, two towels, a blanket to hang over the door, a blanket to sleep under, and a pillow. They walk together down the block row and peel off, one by one, into a cell to call their own. Beth and Daryl keep walking toward the end of the block. He stops at the bottom of the stairs and grabs her sleeve to pull her back. She watches him climb to the top to the guard tower. He drops off his supplies and trots back down the steps. 

"That your new perch," Beth teases.

Daryl hums in response and flicks his wrist in the air, giving her shoulder a little nudge to get her moving. Beth giggles and starts walking to the last cell on the row. "Guess I'll be right here underneath ya' then," she says. She's fascinated by the pink stain that tips his ears at her remark. 

Daryl follows her into the cell and looks at anything but her. Beth sets her supplies on the desk and puts her hands on her hips. She surveys the room. Thinks about how she can make it a home. "Can you help me push the bunk to the other wall?"

They push the bunk out and over to where Beth wants it. They can hear the others moving furniture about as well. "Is there a bed up there where you put your stuff?"

"Nah, I'll just grab a mattress or two and put 'em on the floor."

"I bet Rick and Glenn would help us move a bunk up there, if you want."

Daryl shrugs, "Maybe."

"You think we can make this work?"

"What," he asks.

"This place. Think we can make it a home?" Beth spreads the fitted sheet across the bed. Daryl pulls on the end nearest him and tucks it under the corners. 

"Dunno… Hope so. Ought'a be safe here… at least for a while. Ya' did good findin' this place."

"I didn't find it. You did."

"Yeah, but I didn't see we could use it. You did that."

"Guess we both did good then, huh?" She smiles so sweetly, Daryl's heart actually aches a little in his chest. He can't help the small up-turn of his lip he shoots her in return. 

"Let's go get your room set up," she says.

^^^

Maggie and Glenn don't return from Woodbury. Beth volunteers to go and find them. No question. Maggie is her sister. She will do whatever she has to, to get them back from the Governor. Rick looks to Daryl, then to Hershel. Beth follows his line of site. It sets her off. "I don't need their permission, Rick. I don't need yours either. I'm goin' to get my sister. You figure out who's going with me."

"Beth, I need you here. Carol's still recoverin'. I need you here to protect Judith and Carl. You brought my little girl into this world. What you did for her… for Lori. I never thanked you or your sister for saving her. Please, Beth. Stay here. Let me and Daryl go get Maggie. Oscar and Michonne are goin' too. We'll bring 'em home."

Beth softens at the mention of Judy. She looks at Daryl. He nods, and Beth relents. Daryl holds his arm out, and Beth goes to him. He doesn't exactly put his arm around her. He waits for her to get close then he gives her lower back a gentle nudge. His arm immediately drops to his side, and they walk together back to her cell. Daryl stops by her door and leans against the wall. "We'll bring 'em back, Beth."

She's standing with her back to him. She nods. Then her shoulders start to shake. 

"Beth," Daryl whispers. 

She crosses her arms over her chest, holding herself together. "I'm okay. I just…"

Daryl pushes off the wall and pulls the bandana from his back pocket. He taps her on the arm. Taps again and she turns halfway around. She takes the bandana and pulls it through her fingers. His kindness is the tipping point. She breaks down completely. Daryl catches her before she drops to her knees and lowers them both slowly to the ground. He scoots them back against the wall and holds on to Beth while she cries it out. Long, ugly-cry, sobs that shake Daryl to the core. He runs his hand up and down her spine, feeling the ridges of each vertebra under his fingertips.

Beth's sobs slow to jerky sniffs and shaky breaths. She lifts her head from where it rests against his stomach, sits up, and stretches her legs. Daryl keeps his arm around her shoulders. Tucks her into his side.

"Your shirt's a mess. I'm sorry."

"Nah, you probably made a clean spot with all them tears."

Beth pulls her knees back to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. "Daryl"

"Hmm"

"I lied before. After Lori… when you asked me if I was okay." She shakes her head. "I'm not okay… I killed her, Daryl. Judith was dyin' inside of her. Lori said ta'… ta' cut. I was so scared. I was scared they'd both die if I didn't do somethin'… Maggie handed me her knife and sat down behind her. She held her while I cut. Carl was huggin' Lori, hidin' his face against her neck. She was so brave. She didn't even scream when I made the cut. She was so brave… and I killed her. Maybe there was somethin' else I coulda' done."

"Beth. What you done… bravest damn thing I ever... They'd both be dead if it weren’t for you and Maggie."

"You gotta' get her back, Daryl."

"I will."

Beth turns into Daryl and snakes her arm around his middle. "Bring yourself back too."

Daryl squeezes her shoulder. They sit together until Beth's breathing evens out and her eyes slip closed. "Beth," he whispers and gives her shoulder a little nudge. When she doesn't move, he gently scoops her up and deposits her on her bed. Before he leaves, he takes a second to run his eyes over her face and her hair. " _This girl_ ," he thinks, not for the first time.

^^^

She avoids him like the plague. Rick and the others forgive Daryl for running off with his brother. They even make peace with Merle. Merle's going to help them beat the Governor. Daryl and Carol have found their rhythm again. Merle likes her. Lets Carol boss him around without giving her much sass in return. He sees how Daryl watches Beth. Asks him if she's the reason he was so hell fire determined to get back to his new family.

"Glad to see you finally found somethin' that makes your balls itch. Startin' to wonder if ya' actually had a pair, little bother."

Daryl tells him to, "shut the hell up. Beth's off limits. Ya' got me?"

Merle throws his hands up in mock surrender. But he doesn't tease him about Beth anymore. Senses Daryl might lose his shit if he did.

They're all in the block together, out in the hall, just breathing. Still reeling from the Governor's attack on the prison. They're lucky they survived the truck full of walkers he sent barreling through the prison fence. A reminder that they will never truly be safe. Hershel tells them that he believes Merle. The Governor's coming back, and they need to get ready. Carol sits down next to Beth. "Why don't you sing something, honey? We could all use a break from this silence."

Beth looks back at Maggie. She encourages her with a smile. Rick is walking with Judith, bouncing her gently in his arms. He, too, smiles and asks her to go ahead. 

Beth takes a deep breath and clears her throat. She doesn't much feel like singing right now. But she taps the beat with her fist on her thigh and opens her mouth.

They hung a sign up in our town 

"If you live it up, you won't live it   
down"

So she left Monte Rio, son

Just like a bullet leaves a gun

With her charcoal eyes and Monroe hips

She went and took that California trip

Oh, the moon was gold, her hair like   
wind

Said, "don't look back, just come on,   
Jim"

Oh, you got to hold on, hold on

You gotta' hold on

Take my hand, I'm standing right here,   
you gotta' hold on

Daryl is leaning against a cell next to Hershel. He's lost in the sound of Beth's voice. Watching her sing. Wonderin' what the hell he was thinkin', runnin' off with Merle like that. Leaving Beth and the rest of his family behind. He talked to Carol about it shortly after he got back. She said she understands. Knows a thing or two about loving somebody who isn’t good for you. She told him to talk to Beth. To apologize. Said he hurt her heart. That's something he knows a thing or two about himself. He's tried. More than once, but Beth won't let him anywhere near her.

Well he gave her a dimestore watch

And a ring made from a spoon

Everyone's looking for someone to   
blame

When you share my bed, you share my   
name

Well, go ahead and call the cops

You don't meet nice girls in coffee   
shops

She said, "baby, I still love you"

Sometimes there's nothin' left to do

Oh, but you got to hold on, hold on

Babe, you gotta' hold on and take my   
hand

I'm standing right here, you gotta hold   
on

"Talk to her, son." Daryl's head whips to the side. Hershel is looking at him with that half smile of his. The one that says, " _I know what you're thinking._ " "You hurt her when ya' didn't come back. Just apologize. Promise her it won't happen again. And mean it."

Daryl isn't sure how to respond, so he doesn't. He just looks at Hershel and waits to see if the old man has anything else to say. Hershel chuckles under his breath. "I know ya' care about her. She cares about you too. We all do. I think it just hit her the hardest when you chose not to come back. I think that might mean somethin', don't you?"

"Ain't nothin' goin' on 'tween me and Beth."

"I'm sure that's true. But you care about each other. Trust me, Daryl. Ya' want to make things right sooner rather than later. We don't know what's comin'. Don't wanna' wait too long."

"I won't let anything happen to her. You know that, right?" Daryl's eyes confirm what he's saying.

"I do. And I thank ya' for that. She's my baby girl. She will always be my baby girl, but she's changin'. She's tough and stubborn. And she's learnin' how to take care of herself. Pretty sure I got you to thank for that, too."

Daryl takes a sudden interest in the floor under his boots. 

"We're all glad you're back, son. We're infinitely better… stronger, with you here." Hershel claps him on the shoulder and gives it a little squeeze. Daryl peeks at him through his lashes before they both turn their attention back to Beth's singing.

She closed her eyes and started.   
swaying

But it's so hard to dance that way

When it's cold and there's no music

Oh, your old hometown's so far away

But inside your head there's a record   
that's playing

A song called "Hold On", hold on

Babe, you gotta' hold on

Take my hand, I'm standing right here,   
you gotta' hold on

Quiet blankets the cell block again, but it's peaceful this time. The air is lighter.

"That was beautiful, Beth. Nice choice," Carol says

Beth scoots over next to her and leans against the concrete wall. "Thanks."

"You doin' okay?"

Beth nods. "You?"

Carol smiles, that knowing little smile. It makes Beth squirm. "Better every day… I thought I was gonna' die, down there in the tombs. Been close to dying a couple of times. Suppose we all have. But this was different. It was slow and lonely. Put a lot of things in perspective…"

"Thank, God, Daryl found ya'. He knew you were still alive. Refused to hear otherwise."

"Yeah… I think when Daryl lets you into his heart, you're there for good. 

Beth glances at her out of the corner of her eye.

"He cares about you too. You know that, right," Carol asks.

"Yeah, but there's nothin' goin' on. I mean… I know you two are close. I wouldn't…"

Carol puts her hand on Beth's arm. Interrupts her awkward monologue. "Beth. Daryl and I. We're close. We're friends. Really good friends. If we weren't, I don't think he'd let me call him Pookie." She angles her head to catch Beth's eyes and smiles.

Beth snorts. A delicate, little huff. "Probably not…"

Carol pats her arm. "He cares about you… differently… than he cares about the rest of us. I think you know that… Just be patient with him. Merle didn’t give him much choice in leaving. He regrets it. Maybe cut him a little slack?"

Beth purses her lips. Glances at Carol and sighs. "I already forgave him. The minute he came back. It just hurt, him takin' off like that." 

"I know… Trust me. But he came back. He's not gonna' leave us again."

^^^

Rick, Michonne, and Glenn head out to look for ammunition. Supplies. Anything that might help them make a stand when the Governor comes back. Rick tells Daryl to watch over their family at the prison. He is up in the tower with Merle, keeping watch, when Beth climbs the stairs to find him.

"Well, well, well. Look who's come for a visit, lil' brother."

"Knock it off Merle," Daryl warns.

"Didn't come to visit with you," Beth snips and looks Merle up and down. 

Merle throws up his hands and backs away. "I think I'll head back inside. Leave you and this hellcat here to it. Be easy with ol' Daralina here, darlin'. He ain't used to handlin' merchandise as fine as you."

"Merle…" Daryl growls.

Beth continues to glare at him while he makes his way to the stairs. Merle just smiles. A wicked, flash of canines before disappearing back to the yard.

Daryl starts chewing on his thumb, eyes locked on Beth. She looks him over. Searches his face. Then walks to him and gently pulls his hand away from his mouth. "You'll make it bleed." 

She almost giggles… almost, when he starts chewing on the inside of his lip instead. 

She turns to walk to the railing, but Daryl grabs her forearm. " 'M sorry."

Beth stops, but she doesn’t turn back to face him. "I know… I get it," she whispers.

Daryl shakes his head. He wants to scream at her. Tell her how she doesn’t get it. How it tore him in half having to choose. How he knew immediately, he had made a mistake. "Was wrong ta' leave."

Beth turns back to him this time. "Yeah… but you came back," she says and offers him a soft, timid smile. She looks down at their clasped forearms. "I, um… I owe you an apology too."

"Fer what?"

"I shouldn't 'a ignored ya' when you came back. I was just so… I don’t know…" She drags her eyes from their arms and looks up to find him staring at her. Her train of thought completely derails when her eyes lock with his. There is so much unsaid in those eyes of his. He's staring at her so intently. Willing her to understand. She shakes her head and regroups. "All I wanted to do was hug you… and, and thank you for comin' back." A lump sticks in her throat. A ball of unshed tears that’s been building since the day he returned. She can't talk around it.

Daryl gently tugs her toward him. One step and he's pulling her arm around his middle. Her other hand land on his chest. Her ear lands over his heart. He's hesitant, a little awkward, but when Beth snakes her other arm around his middle too, he can't help but wrap her up completely. Beth sighs and Daryl squeezes her a little tighter.

"Promise me you won't run off again."

"Promise." 

^^^

It isn’t long before Rick and the others return with a bus full of Woodbury folks on the run. The family accepts them into the fold. Willing to try and build a community. Daryl is a rock star. He has is own set of groupies in the Woodbury camp, and it makes him nervous. Beth and Carol think it's hilarious.

Beth is feeding Judith at the picnic table outside. The Woodbury people and her family are making it work. Becoming friends. Beth has been helping Carol and Karen with the kids and their school lessons, but Judith is still her top priority.

"Cute baby."

Beth looks up into the sun and squints. She can't see his face, only his form. But she assumes it's the boy from Woodbury. The one that keeps smiling at her.

"This seat taken," he asks and flops down across from her at the table.

"Have a seat then," Beth mumbles under her breath and goes back to feeding Judy.

"It's Beth, right? I'm Zach." He wipes his hand on his shirt and extends it to Beth.

Beth shakes his hand and smiles. "Nice to meet ya'," he says.

"You, too."

"What's her name?"

"Judith"

"She yours?"

Beth shakes her head. Feels her hackles rise although she isn't quite sure why. "No. I just take care of her."

"Where's her mama?"

"She died. Giving birth. She's Rick's daughter."

"That the Sheriff or the crossbow guy," he asks before shoving a big piece of deer meat in his mouth.

"Daryl's the crossbow guy. The one who killed that deer your eatin'." She narrows her eyes at him. Wants to be sure he understands who it is that's keeping him and all the others fed.

"Right. He your boyfriend? I see you guys together a lot."

 _"What the hell_ ," she thinks. "We're close."

"Yeah, but is he your boyfriend," he teases and leans in a little toward her. He reaches over to pat Judith, but Beth subtly angles her away before he can make contact.

A crossbow hits the table between them with a loud thud. Zach jumps back, and Beth smiles up at Daryl. "You eat yet," he asks her. 

"Not yet," she answers sweetly, her tone a far cry from the defensive it was a moment ago. "I will when Judith's done."

"Here, let me take her. You go get ya' somethin' fore it's all gone…" He reaches for Judith and takes her carefully into his arms. Rocks her back and forth before giving her more of her bottle. "Hey there lil' asskicker. You want some more ta' eat?"

Beth watches him. Wonders if he even knows he has a smile reserved only for the baby he cradles in his arms. "You eat yet," she asks.

"Nah, not yet."

Beth slings her leg over the bench seat, and Daryl offers his hand to help her up. "I'll make ya' a plate… Be right back."

Zach watches the easy exchange between the two. He squirms a little when Daryl plops down across from him. Slows his eating to a crawl, but Daryl completely ignores him. 

Zach clears his throat. "Thanks for the deer meat."

Daryl looks across the table at Zach. "You always stuff your face 'for anybody else gets a chance to eat?"

Zach stops chewing and swallows hard. "I didn't know others hadn't got any food yet."

"Maybe you ought 'a pay a little more attention. Start helpin' out 'round here. Earn yer keep." 

"I… I've been killin' walkers on the fence. Takin' shifts in the tower with David."

"You been spendin' a lot of time watchin' Beth too."

"I… I didn't know you two… I mean… I meant no disrespect. She's a beautiful girl, you know? Pretty smile. Hadn't seen one of those in a long time."

"I think you better stop talkin' now," Daryl all but growls.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna'…" Zach picks up his plate and heads across the yard.

Beth sits down next to Daryl and hands him his dinner. "Where was Zach goin' in such a hurry?"

"Iunno," Daryl mumbles.

Beth looks at him and her bow creases with suspicion. Daryl ducks back behind his bangs and starts talking to Judith again.

"You on watch tonight?"

"Yeah, tower two," he says. You got Judith?"

"No, Rick's watchin' her tonight."

"'Bout time. You need a break."

"I love watchin' Judy," she whines.

"I know, but Rick needs to step up some too, ya' know."

Beth answers with a shrug. She's more than happy to take care of Judy. They all have their jobs to do. 

"You wanna' come on watch wit' me tonight?"

Beth just looks at him for a second. She's caught completely off guard by the invitation. The tips of Daryl's ears turn pink. Beth smiles, all the way to her eyes. "Yeah… sounds good."

Daryl nods, one stiff nod. "A'ight"

"Alright," Beth echos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a bit to post. A little writers block and a whole lot of trying to save my shop from the Corona Crisis. Hope this one wasn't too boring. I feel like I spent a lot of words for not a lot of story. I'm anxious to move on to life on their own after the prison. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. I can always do a re-write.


	7. Faith

Beth is walking the fences. Killing walkers. She practices stabbing them through the eye, straight on, like Daryl taught her. She sees a smaller one. Even with most of its hair gone and the skin over its cranium melting away, she can tell it was a female. A petite female much like her. It's snapping and snarling against the metal. Arms reaching through the chain link. Beth watches it for a second. Turns her shoulder toward the fence and scoots a little closer. The frenzied walker stretches further, nails scraping against Beth's arm. Beth takes a deep breath. Flips her knife to strike from the side. Edges closer to the fence. It's shocking how strong they are, even in an advanced state of decay. Beth allows the walker to grab her arm. Drag her toward the fence. She bends her knees, centers her weight, and strikes. A wide arc that buries the blade deep into the walker's temple. Beth recovers her knife, and the walker falls with a satisfying thump. 

" 'At's good."

Beth turns to see Daryl standing behind her with a smug, closed-lip smile on his face. 

"Thanks. I had a good teacher."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Beth giggles. 

"Keep practicin', girl."

Beth turns back to the walkers. "Yes, sir, Mr. Dixon," she hollers over her shoulder. She full on laughs when she hears him growl. Sees him throw his hand in the air and flick his wrist at her while he's striding away. She strikes from every direction. Dancing on her toes. Hopping and stabbing. By the time she's done, she's covered in walker spew and thoroughly exhausted. She briefly considers grabbing a bite to eat before heading to the shower. Reconsiders when Carl wrinkles his nose at the sight of her.

The showers nearest cell block C are housed in a large, open, tile and concrete room. The room itself is divided into twelve stalls, six on each outside wall. The center wall essentially splits the room into two halves. It's lined with six sinks and six mirrors on each side. They've hung two blankets from that center wall, one stretching to each corner of the double entry doors. Women's showers to the right, men's to the left. Beth throws back the blanket to the women's and strips on her way to the stall. She rinses under the hot water until it runs clear at her feet. The shampoo they have does nothing for the frizz or the tangles. It smells like men's deodorant. But it gets her hair clean, so she doesn't complain. They even have razors. And shaving cream. And hot, running water. Nope, no complaints from her. 

She finishes her shower, wraps herself up in a towel and heads for the sinks. Before she can even apply the plain peroxide paste to her toothbrush, Maggie and Glenn fall through the blanket. They're completely tangled up in one another. Hands and lips are everywhere. Glenn walks Maggie backwards toward the shower stall, tugging at her clothes along the way. They never even see Beth by the sinks. When Glenn turns on the shower head, and Maggie squeals in surprise, Beth makes her escape. She hot-foots it over to the men's side to finish up. She listens before she pulls back the blanket. No running water. No sound at all. So, she slips through… And slams straight into Daryl. Straight into Daryl's naked chest to be more precise. He's standing there in front of her, hands on her shoulders from where he caught her, wearing nothing but a towel. Thank goodness that towel is secure around his waist.

"Oh!" Beth squeaks.

Daryl drops his hands and freezes. Except for his eyes. They travel the length of Beth, head to toe, and back. Beth shivers even though her shower was hot, and the room is humid. She crosses her arms over her chest and bunches the towel that's wrapped around her tightly in her fists. 

"I'm sorry. Maggie and Glenn… They're ah…" She points her thumb over her shoulder.

Daryl looks past Beth and hums under his breath. He scowls then moves over to the sink, seemingly unaffected by a towel clad Beth. Except for the tips of ears. They're red hot where they poke out from beneath his wet hair. Beth scoots past him and disappears into the last stall.

Daryl grabs the sink and leans into it. Watches his knuckles turn white. The cold water he splashes on his face does little to simmer him down. But it does kick him in gear. He quickly pulls his jeans on, hoists his shirt over his shoulders, and sits down on the bench with his boots. 

"Daryl? You dressed," she calls.

"Yeah, I'm good." 

When Beth sees him again, he's pulling on his boots. Wearing his long-sleeved button down, but it's hanging open, completely undone. She's so pleased to get another quick glimpse of those abs when he stands up. It's all she can do not to cross the room and help him with those buttons. 

"Feel better," he asks.

Beth's eyes snap from his abs to his eyes. "What?"

"After yer shower? Ya' worked hard today."

"Right. Yeah. I'll feel better after I eat. You hungry?"

^^^

Daryl, Michonne, Maggie, and a couple of guys from Woodbury are scheduled to head out on a run in the morning. They're going to the Big Spot, a couple of hours or more north of the prison. 

Beth is putting Judith down for the night in Rick's cell. He and Carl will be taking care of her little girl tonight. Daryl is waiting for her in the hall. 

"Hey," she says with a smile.

"Hey. Feel like a walk?"

Her smile grows exponentially in reply.

They walk out to the courtyard. The silence between them easy. Familiar. Comforting. They head toward the corner of the yard.

"Big run tomorrow, huh."

"Yeah. Might be gone overnight. Just depends on how it goes."

Beth nods. She is trying her best to be brave, but she'd be lying if she said she was okay with Daryl being gone overnight. Even just one night. She can't tell him that though. Can't have him feeling guilty for going on a run. She tucks a timid hand under his bicep wanting nothing more than to feel him alive and breathing by her side. When he doesn't pull away, Beth relaxes against him.

"If I close one eye and peak through that chain-link," she says and points toward the fence in front of them. The only barrier between them and the tributary that runs parallel to the prison. "I can almost pretend like we're back at the farm. Down by the creek… We're goin' fishin' for supper…" Her words fade as she disappears into her own imagination. He can hear the longing in her voice. Can _feel_ it in his heart. Fishing, with her, on the farm is exactly where he would choose to be right now if he could.

Beth is lost in her daydream. Doesn’t even realize what she's doing when she slides her free hand over his elbow and hugs his arm to her chest. Nestles into his warmth. Her temple lands softly against his bicep. "Daryl?"

"Hmmm?"

"Promise me you'll do everything you can to get yourself back home ta' us... ta' me."

He reaches over and covers her hand with his. Beth doesn't look at him. She can't. It's too much. Too big. She isn't sure what she just admitted too. Not certain what those two extra words, "to me", may have cost them both.

"Yeah… I promise." 

They stand together for a bit longer. Meander through the yard talking about this and that until Daryl feels a little shiver run through her. "Better get back in. 'S getting' chilly out here."

They hold on to each other until they reach the door. Not yet ready to let the world in on their blossoming secret, Beth lets go of his arm and they head inside. Daryl has his hands in his pockets and Beth has hers crossed over her chest. They walk the long hall together to her cell. He stops at the door and leans against the frame. Knows it's probably best to keep himself on this side of the threshold for now. "You didn’t put anything on the list fer me ta' look for tomorra'."

She shakes her head. "I gave Maggie a list. Just a few girly things. Other than that, I don’t really need anything. I brought a backpack with me from the farm, remember," she teases. "You got the list for Judith, right? She's gonna' need some things when the seasons change. She's growin' so much. Teethin'. And we can always use any kind of baby food for her. Formula. She's gonna need one of those bouncy seat things too. And a swing if you can find it. Seems like every day there's somethin' new happenin' with her…" She knows she's rambling. But she can't seem to make herself stop. Maybe she's afraid he'll turn and leave as soon as she stops talking. Maybe she's saying anything and everything to keep from saying the one thing she desperately wants to say to him. She's not even sure she can put what she wants to tell him into words. Not sure there's even a word in the English language that properly describes how she feels about him. 

She's still maundering when he pushes off the doorframe and ambles over to her. He grabs her hands. Stills them from their wild flutterings. Beth freezes. She can't look at him. If she does, she'll ask him not to go. Maybe even beg him to stay, here, with her. But that wouldn't be fair. Not to him or to their family. So, she focuses on his hands. Wonders at the size of them. At how they completely envelop hers. His fingertips are rough. His palms calloused and warm. 

She feels his lips on her hairline. Pressing into her skin for the briefest moment. He understands. She doesn’t have to say anything. He squeezes her wrists to let her know he gets it. Ghosts his forehead against hers before turning to leave. Beth is left staring at her fingers, past the space where his hands covered hers. Her heart is pounding, and her vision blurs. She doesn't even realize she's crying until a fat water droplet plops into her palm. She remembers to breath. A quick breath followed by a sob. She falls on her bed and buries her head in her pillow. Calling on her faith, she prays for him. For him and for Maggie and Michonne, for the men from Woodbury who will be going with them. She cries and she prays until she falls asleep. When she wakes in the morning, her boots are off her feet and on the floor by her bed. She is tucked in under her extra blanket. And Daryl and the others are gone. 

^^^

It's been five days and there is still no sign of them. She heard Glenn crying last night when she was walking with Judith. It was all she could do not to break down right along with him. Carol keeps saying they probably had to lay low. "Just taking their time. Playing it smart. You'll see. They'll be back before you know it." She pats Beth's arm and gives her a reassuring smile. But it doesn’t make it to her eyes. Beth catches her staring off past the fence. Searching. Rick and the others are doing the same when they think no one else is looking. Everyone is quiet. Existing on bated breath. Beth is in the commons at sundown, feeding Judith, when Carol comes rushing in.

"It's the suburban! Their back!"

Beth adjusts Judith in her lap. Wipes her face and hands hastily and heads for the yard. She and Carol push their way to the front of the group that has gathered to welcome their people home. To see who has survived the run and who has not.

The Suburban is stopped just inside the gate. All four doors are open, and the back hatch is up. Glenn and Maggie are hugging, rocking back and forth in each other's arms. Rick is standing close to Michonne, talking with her and Carl. Beth's eyes are darting back and forth, from person to person, but she doesn't see him. She doesn’t see his motorcycle either. The expectant smile she's wearing slips from her face. Judith suddenly feels like she weighs a thousand pounds. Carol has her arm around Beth's shoulder, a hand on each bicep. Her grip is crushing. She doesn’t see him either. 

Rick and Michonne are smiling when he stops and takes Judith from Beth's arms. Beth looks to Rick. Desperate for a clue as to where Daryl might be. He doesn’t say a word. Takes Judith. Keeps on smiling. Beth wants to scream. How can he be laughing with Michonne? Where the hell is Daryl? Beth is starting to feel lightheaded. Nauseous. Then Carol breaks away from her. Walks toward the suburban with a quickened pace. Not quite a jog, not quite a stroll. That's when Beth sees it. Someone has closed the driver's side doors. She can see a single tire peeking out from behind the back bumper. She leans forward, but her feet won't move. Seeing the motorcycle isn’t enough. She needs to see him. Needs to feel his skin under her fingers. Feel his heart beating beneath her ear. Carol is patting him on the back. All smiles when they round the corner. At the sight of him, Beth's feet decide to work. She takes off toward him. Carol sees her. Gives Daryl a little shove in Beth's direction and squats down to look through the Big Spot haul. 

Daryl makes a bee-line for Beth. Eyes locking on hers. Pulling her toward him with an invisible force. His arms band about her waist. Hers fly around his neck, seeking purchase in the leather on his shoulders. He sinks into her. Bone tired and weary. 

Beth pulls back from him, just enough to whisper in his ear. "You're late… I was worried."

He squeezes her a little tighter before easing her back to her feet. She cradles his face in her hands. Hates how her voice trembles. "You okay?" 

"Yeah," he nods, and Beth's hands fall back to his chest. 'I'm a'ight… That boy from Woodbury. The one that was always smilin' at ya?"

"Zach?"

"Yeah…" He doesn't say anything more. Simply wills her to understand.

"He dead?"

Daryl nods.

"What happened," she asks before she can stop herself.

"Half a walker on the floor. The bitin' half. Grabbed 'im. Pulled 'im down..." He finishes with a shrug.

"Nothin' you coulda' done, Daryl… I'm glad I got to know him"

"Yeah… Me too. 's a funny kid. Thought I was 'a undercover cop or some shit, 'fore the turn."

"He what?" 

Daryl shakes his head. "Long story," he says. "I'll tell ya' later."

Beth studies his face. She's surprised by the amount of grief she finds there. "You okay," she asks him again.

"Just tired of losin' people 'sall."

Beth can only nod. She gets it. It's an understanding they all share. 

"Come on," she says and starts walking backwards away from him. "Let's get you somethin' to eat."

He catches up with her in two long strides. Beth's stomach drops, but in the very best way, when Daryl reaches for her hand. She laces their fingers together. Gives his hand a squeeze for good measure. When they reach the door, he lets her hand go. Holds the door open for her. The look he gives her is an apology. But Beth is having none of it. She smiles back at him warmly. She understands this too. He isn't a fan of the public display. Neither is she, if she's being honest. She has never liked the way Maggie and Glenn put their relationship out there on exhibit.

Daryl grabs a seat on the bench across from Michonne. They're both worn out and hungry. Beyond grateful to be home. 

In the kitchen, Beth finds Rick putting together a plate of spaghetti for Michonne. "You better make you a plate too, Rick. Gotta' eat." He passed on supper again earlier tonight. It didn't go unnoticed by Beth. She quietly keeps an eye on everybody in the family. Looks for opportunities to make their life easier anyway she can. Rick chuckles under his breath and grabs another plate from the clean stack. He reckons he feels like eating tonight after all.

Beth slides in next to Daryl, and Rick plops down in a chair next to Michonne. They learn what happened on the run between bites of spaghetti, mostly from Michonne. It's hard for Beth to concentrate when Daryl is pressing his thigh against hers. She wonders if he even realizes he's doing it. When he wipes his hands on his jeans, and the one nearest her, lands on her knee, she figures he knows exactly what he's doing. Michonne is saying that they ran into a small herd on the way. Had to fall back and wait for the horde to pass. They took a different route back because of all the makeshift roadblocks they encountered on their way there. All in all, it costs them three extra days to maneuver the unknowns. But the take was worth it. They found everything on their lists and then some. They’ve already discussed another run, and soon. Beth can see Carol and the others organizing all the new supplies at the other end of the commons. They must have had the suburban packed to the gills. 

"Gonna' take a shower. Hit the hay," Daryl says and reaches for his empty plate. Beth grabs it up first, along with the other two. Michonne dittos his plan and the four disperse. They could all use a good night's sleep. 

Beth didn't expect to see him again tonight. She's tucked under her covers, finally able to rest now that her family is whole again. She doesn't exactly hear him. It's more like she feels him when he shows up at her door. Her eyes flutter open to find him leaning against the metal frame. She sits up and smiles. 

"Didn' mean ta' wake ya'."

"You didn't. Come on in."

Daryl walks in and leans his bottom against the desk. He tosses a folded, knit sweater onto the surface next to him. It's dark purple. Looks big and soft. Beth crosses the tiny space and picks it up. Yep. It's oversized with a wide neck and fitted sleeves. Super soft too. It's perfect. "Thank you, Daryl."

Daryl nods. Beth is fascinated by the flush of pink that paints his ears. She suspects he picked it out himself with her in mind. She's gonna' assume that's the case anyway. 

"Yer sister get all yer stuff?"

"Yes, thank you"

"Good…" Daryl pulls something from his pocket. He fools around with it in his hand. Running it back and forth between his fingers. He's nervous. A little twitchy. 

"What 'cha got there," Beth asks.

"I uh… I grabbed this fer ya'," he says and passes her a little strip of leather. 

Beth takes it and flips it over. It's a leather bracelet. The kind you find on the spinner rack at the gas station. It has two press button clasps on the back side. On the front, a delicate vine and single-leaf pattern has been pressed into the leather. It runs diagonally, above and below the word, "Faith". Beth's hand flies to her mouth. The beauty is in its simplicity, in its meaning. She is speechless.

"I was gonna' look for one with yer name on it, but yer always talkin' about havin' faith and shit..."

Beth clasps it around her wrist. Trembling fingers set to work on the button press. She shakes her head and sniffs. Realizes she's crying again in front of him.

When she looks up, his eyes are as wide as she has ever seen them. An alluring array of blues swirl together with the smokey gray she's become so used to seeing. He visibly relaxes when she whispers, "it's perfect." Honestly, Beth isn't sure if she's commenting on his eyes or the bracelet. Maybe both. Yes, definitely both. Because both are perfect.

Daryl shifts off the desk and steps into Beth. Runs his fingers the length of the playful braid that shapes the side of her face. He breaths her name… " _Beth_ ," like a prayer. Skims his knuckles across the apple of her cheek. Beth's eyes slip closed as he leans in. Presses his lips to hers. Featherlight. They're rough and chapped. He tastes like mint toothpaste with just the hint of something foreign. Something new and inviting. When he starts to pull away, Beth grabs the hem of his shirt, rises to her toes. Chases his lips with hers. They press together again, and Daryl wraps his arms around her middle. Snugs her flush against him. Beth's hands go to his neck. The push and pull of their lips. The give and take of their tongues. It's somehow too much and yet not enough, all at once. A quiet little moan escapes from the back of Beth's throat. It startles them both and they reluctantly part. But only their lips. Their foreheads rest against one another as they catch their breath.

"Beth," he says again. His voice husky and deep. She can feel her name, so gravelly is his voice. She can feel it as plainly as she hears it. She leans back to see his face. Brushes his bangs from his eyes. A thing she's been itching to do for far too long now. 

He's watching her. Searching her eyes. Beth allows it. Knows he needs time to process. She is patient. More than happy to take things slow. Exceedingly slow if that is what it takes. She smiles softly. Thinks about the kisses they've just shared. Her eyes drop to his lips. She is floating toward them when something in his expression changes. It's subtle, but it's definitely there. He lets go of her waist. Steadies her on her feet. Something's wrong. Beth's pulse quickens. Rushes in her ears. He's overthinking it. Something inside of her is screaming. A warning. He's talking himself out of it. Out of them. He's gonna' run. She can feel it. 

"Beth, I got no right... This ain't right…"

He pulls away from her. Starts backing toward the door. The pain that flashes in his eyes and skitters across his face is brief, but unmistakable. He looks utterly miserable. 

Beth reaches for him. "Wait… Daryl, what are ya' talkin' about? What's not right?"

"Kissin' ya' like that. Touchin' ya'." He hurls his words at her like shrapnel. "The things I done, Beth. I can't account for half the shit I done. The people I hurt…" His voice is at a pitch she's never heard from him before. His hands are flying everywhere. Up around his head. Then down by his sides. He turns away from her. Pauses before shucking his shoulders and heading toward the door. 

Beth dashes around him. Tries to stop him with two hands on his chest. His heart is pounding. Hers matches its pace. "Daryl, stop." He tries to side-step her, but she isn't having it. "Stop!"

He freezes. Just like that. Still as a statue. Beth is in his space. Hands flat against his chest. "Daryl," she says. Tries to coax him into looking at her, but he won't. His eyes jump from the wall over her shoulder to his boots, then to the door, the ceiling, anywhere but her. "Daryl," she tries again. Softer this time. She slides her hand to his face. Gently runs her thumb the length of his jaw. "Look at me, please."

He does, but he's tense and rigid. No part of him touches her. "I don't care who you were before the world went to shit. You're a different person now, Daryl. You're a good person. Everything you've done since I met ya' has been for the good of somebody ya' care about… Carin' about people ain't easy. I get that. But, here's a little secret… you're really good at it."

Daryl shakes his head. Backs away from her again. Turns his shoulder to her. "You think yer daddy's gonna' be okay with this? Huh? Maggie? Rick and the others? You think their gonna' be okay with 'a piece 'a shit like me tryin' to be with you?"

Beth takes a small step toward him, lets him keep his space. Knows he needs room to pace. Room to breathe. When she opens her mouth, she's calmer. Gives it to him straight. "That ain't you talkin', Daryl. That's a ghost from somewhere in yer past. You ain't 'a piece 'a shit and you know it. My daddy loves you. So does Maggie… so do I."

He drags his eyes from the ceiling and hazards a glance in her direction. Beth eases towards him. Takes a hold of his forearm and presses her forehead to his bicep. Eyes closed, she drags in a deep breath. Re-groups. Lifts her head and eases her other hand around his elbow. She steps closer. Hugs is arm to her chest and leans into him. "I'm gonna' need ya' ta' have a little faith, Daryl. Trust me on this. You and me. We're one of the good things to come out of all this hell. Like Judith. Like Maggie and Glenn. We're precious and rare. We're worth fightin' for. But I can't do it without ya'."

He huffs. It almost sounds like a sob. She can feel him thinking. Can see his fingers curling and uncurling into fist. He's calming down. Eventually, his hand relaxes completely at his side. She feels his weight shift to the hip she's leaning against. "Faith, huh?"

Beth looks up at him. His eyes are glossy in the faint light of the cell. He turns into her. Tucks her hair behind her ear. "Ain't gonna' be easy. I can be a real 'sum bitch sometimes."

Beth nods and tries to keep from smiling. "I'm aware of that, Mr. Dixon."

"Don't start that shit," he grouses.

Beth does smile then. "You gonna' shut me up, Mr Di…"

His lips on hers does exactly that. She feels him smile against her when she giggles. The kiss is long but chaste. A hard press against her lips. A promise. 

"What the hell am I gonna' do with you, girl?"

Beth shrugs and smiles. She likes the weight of his hands, heavy on her hips. "One day at a time. That's all I'm askin'"

Daryl nods. Plants a quick kiss on her forehead and backs away. Only this time he's smiling. Backing away slowly like he'd rather stay than go. "G'night, sweetheart."

Beth is so struck by the pet-name, she barely has time to respond. "G'night," she whispers and draws her lip between her teeth. 

She falls into bed, exhausted and happy. Feels like only the sweetest of dreams awaits her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I like what I tried to convey, the emotion and the scenes, just not sure it translated well. Kind of long too, I think. Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think!


	8. Gestalts

Sorry it has taken a bit to post. I actually had to divide this chapter into two separate entities. It was getting rather lengthy, but I just couldn't stop the Bethyl train. This chapter is all about their growing relationship. Pretty flippin' sweet if I do say so myself. Hope you agree! 

**Chpt 8: Gestalts**

It's too quiet at night to sleep. Every little pop and creek has him on high alert. Sleeping during the day is easier. Daryl finds comfort in the familiar cadance of life in the prison. It helps him rest. If he's lucky, Beth will find him napping and curl up next to him for a bit. Sometimes she brings Judith too. The three of them cuddled up together feels pretty damn good if he's being honest. He thinks that’s when he sleeps the best. When they were on the run, before the prison, he hardly slept at all. They scavenged during the day, endlessly walking door to door, rested at night. Sleep was nearly impossible for him to find. Then they stumbled upon the prison. A life-saving gift. No one seems to remember that it was Beth that saw the prison for its potential. He would have gone right back to the group and never mentioned it. The people at the prison, and there are a lot of them now, thank him all the time for the deer meet, for keeping watch, for patrolling and fixing the fences, for just doing shit that needs to be done. It’s Beth they should be thanking. She's the one making this place a home. She's the one doing the shit that lasts like tending the garden, teaching the kids, leading a book club, and writing down on paper their new family's journey. Judith will want to read that shit someday. Understand where she came from, what she survived, and who loved her through it. 

Daryl is in the tower on watch. It's spring, but the days are heating up fast. The Georgia humidity is already a reminder that another long, hot summer is just around the corner. The sun is setting later and later. There's just enough light left for him to make out a couple of deer on the edge of the woods. He figures he may as well snag one as soon as his shift is over. Maybe grab Beth and take her with him if she's awake.

He hears footfalls on the steps. Turns to see his girl appear in the doorway. She smiles when she sees him, that sweet, contented smile that puckers the little lines at the corner of her big blue eyes. Makes his heart ache. He holds his arm out, an invitation, and Beth flows to his side. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, hugs her close and kisses the top of her head. She has a blanket and a mug of coffee, cream and sugar, just the way he likes it. She gave him all kids a' shit when she found out he likes his coffee all dolled up. She takes hers black. Life's surprising that way sometimes.

Daryl takes her blanket and shakes it out. Wraps it around her shoulders, spins her, and pulls her back flush to his chest. He points past her cheek to the tree-line edging the woods. "See there?"

Beth follows the line of his arm and squints at the setting shadows of dusk. It takes her a second, but then she spots them. Three deer are grazing without a care in the world. 

"Wanna' go get one of 'em with me after shift?"

"Uh, yeah," she says, "duh"

"Hmmm." He isn’t sure what to do with her when she says shit like that. She makes it seem like wanting to be with him is as ordinary as brushing your teeth. He doesn't think he'll ever figure that one out, but he ain't dumb enough to look a damn gift horse in the mouth. He props his foot up on the lowest rung of the railing and thinks about lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. Beth awakens things inside of him that he didn’t know existed. Still makes him a little nervous sometimes, but only in the best way. Beth snuggles into him, easy as you please, and settles her head beneath his chin. "I thought your brother might be up here with you."

"Nah. Carol's workin' his ass off. She's got him buildin' shit, fixin' stuff all day."

"She said he's a good carpenter."

"Yeah. He's always been good with his hands. When we were little, he used to carve cars and trucks out a' wood from the back porch. We'd play with 'em for hours, runnin' 'em through the dirt and mud. He tried to teach me how, but I never could get the hang of it"

Beth smiles at that, pictures the two Dixon boys playing in the woods with their homemade hot wheels. Rolls it around in her head. Stumbles over one of the details. "Wait, he took wood from the back porch?"

"Yeah," Daryl says and takes his time fishing a cigarette from his pocket. He lights it, without letting go of Beth, and draws a long hard breath through the filter. Turns his head and blows the smoke in the direction of the wind. "Our pop was drunk. Got mad over who knows what and started blastin' holes in the back porch with his shot gun. Stupid ass got his boot lace caught on the edge of one of 'em. Ended up fallin' through the door. Slammed his head on the way down. Knocked himself clean out." He takes another long draw from the cigarette. "Thought he was dead for sure that time." 

Beth, to her credit, doesn't miss a beat. "He do stupid stuff like that a lot?"

Daryl nods, "Only when he was drunk. So, yeah, all the time."

"That sucks. I'm sorry." And that's why he always ends up telling Beth more than he means to. She doesn't pity him. Doesn't try to make him feel better about things that have long since been buried. She accepts his scars as a part of him, as a part of who he is, and seems to care about him all the more for sharing. 

"You know I think Merle might be a little sweet on Carol," she says.

"Pfff. Like a damn romance novel… Just as long as he keeps it in line."

Beth giggles a little under her breath. "I don't think he has a choice with Carol. Think he might be a little scared of her too."

"Good"

"Think she might have a soft spot for him?"

"No idea. Don't pay attention to shit like that, girl."

"Yes, you do," she says. He can practically hear her eyes roll. Another reason he's falling in love with this girl. She calls him on his bullshit. "You notice everything. It's one of the things I love about you."

Everything around them seems to freeze frame. Beth realizes she has just all but told him, straight out, she loves him. Maybe he's not ready to hear that yet. Maybe she's not ready to admit that yet, either. _No, that's not true,_ she tells herself. She knows she loves him, but Daryl isn't moving at all behind her. She's not even sure he's breathing. She's digging deep for something to say, something that won't sound terribly awkward… when Daryl plants another kiss on the top of her head.

"I love your smile," he mumble -whispers in her ear. Beth squeezes his forearm where it rests lightly across her chest, so thankful that God dropped this man in her path.

They are both content to let the quiet do the talking and pass the time. Beth isn't even sure when the song she's been singing in her head becomes a soft hum in the back of her throat. When she finishes, Daryl squeezes her shoulder. He thinks about how tiny she is to be so fierce. Doesn't think she's afraid of anything. 

"Beth, I gotta' talk to yer dad,' he says out of nowhere, but the way he says it makes her think he's been contemplating doing so for a while now.

She frowns and leans away from him, enough to turn her head and see his face. As usual, it betrays nothing. 

" 'bout what?"

" 'bout this. Me and you."

Beth turns to face him. Leans back against the railing. "You know he already knows, right? Pretty sure everybody knows by now." She watches him carefully to judge his reaction. They would both prefer to keep this thing, their thing, just between the two of them. It's too important. But when you live on top of each other the way they do, privacy is the first casualty. He starts scratching at his thumb, but outside of that, he doesn't seem affected.

"Yeah, I know. I just think I oughta' tell him I ain't palyin' around. Make sure he knows I'm serious about things. 'bout you. Ya' know? Be respectful."

Beth tucks her bottom lip between her teeth. She really isn't sure what to say to that. It's unexpected. But it's also very Daryl. She knows how he feels about her daddy. Knows his opinion matters to Daryl. She knows too exactly how Daryl feels about her. She can feel it every time he looks at her. So, she nods and asks him if he wants her to go with him.

"Nah. Better talk to him myself."

Beth slides her arms around his middle. Puts her ear to his heart. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. I'm lucky to have you."

"Pretty sure I'm the lucky one, girl."

He tugs gently on her ponytail and Beth peers up at him. He only hesitates for a moment, eyes slipping from hers, to her lips, then back. Beth smiles and rolls to her toes. His kiss is sure, almost possessive, and Beth has no problem with that. Her hands slide to the back of his neck. She pulls him closer, deepens the kiss. She isn't used to being the aggressor, but she knows what she wants. Knows enough to know that what she feels for Daryl is vastly different than anything she has ever felt before. She can read his heart. Aches when she isn't with him. She is his partner, and he is her best friend. They talk, and she falls more in love with him. But they can be quiet together too, and it's comfortable. She sings and he listens and smiles. He teaches her to slow down and to be observant. Teaches her how to read people and situations. She teaches him to trust. To let go and have a little faith. She tells him he is "good", and he believes her. 

They break apart, breathless. "You gotta' help me keep things in check, girl. Ain't good at it when I'm with ya'"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Dixon"

"Don't start that shit," he warns her, but there's no bite in his growl.

Beth laughs at that and presses her lips to his for a quick kiss. "Tell me something good, Daryl."

He smiles at her. Knows exactly what he wants to tell her. Decides it can wait until they both need to hear it. "You know," is all he says.

Beth nods and smiles, pleased with his response. She does know and it sends her heart over the moon.

**^TWD^**

Daryl finds Hershel checking the plants in the garden. It's early afternoon and the sun is beaming down on a beautiful day. The garden is coming along nicely. Little bits of color are sprouting up in rows. It stirs hope. Maybe they really can make a life here at the prison. Something lasting. Rick is pulling weeds at he far end of the field. He gives Daryl a wave before turning back to his task. He has left the leadership decisions entirely up to the council. He spends most of his time working the soil and helping with chores around the prison. " _It’s the damnedest thing,"_ Daryl thinks. He still can't get used to it. He's thinking about how much things have changed, about how far his family has come when he hears Hershel say his name.

"Something on your mind, son?" Hershel's got that twinkle in his eye. Daryl has seen it before from the old man. It's like he's just waiting for everyone else to catch up. One hell of a poker face.

Daryl blinks at him and grunts. He wonders why he has to be so damn awkward all the time. Hershel smiles kindly. Waits for Daryl to organize his thoughts.

"I, uh… I wanted to talk to ya' 'bout somethin' "

"Alright… shoot," Hershel says. Daryl gets the feeling Hershel might be playing with him. The way a cat bats at a mouse before it goes in for the kill. It makes him nervous. Even more nervous than he already is. He starts to scratch at his thumb and Hershel has to squelch a chuckle.

"I guess you know 'bout me and Beth?" He tries not to be defensive, but history has taught Daryl to brace himself for the worst.

Hershel's lips pucker like he's just bit into a lemon. "I reckon I know you two spend a lot of time together. I know she cares about you. Best I can tell, you make her happy. Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah… Me and Beth, we're together… I don't mean like Maggie and Glenn. We ain't like that. I mean we are… I care about her, but we ain't… We don't…" Daryl huffs out a frustrated breath. Looks Hershel square in the face. Finds his footing. No turning back. "She's the most important thing I got, ya' know?"

Hershel respects what Daryl has come to do. Feels a rush of tenderness toward him. He has watched him change in the last year and a half. Knows it is love and respect… family, that has transformed him from a hot-tempered clodhopper into the big-hearted, brave and selfless man he was meant to be. 

Hershel nods. Smiles warmly. But, Beth is his heart, so he has to ask. "What exactly are your intentions when it comes to my baby girl?"

"Just wanna' take care of her. Keep her safe. Love her for as long as she'll let me."

Hershel softens at that. Knows Daryl means it. Daryl always means what he says. Truth is, there is nobody he would rather see Beth with than the man standing in front of him. 

"Then you have my blessing."

Daryl wipes his hand on his jeans and extends it to Hershel. Hershel takes it gladly. Claps Daryl on the shoulder and gives him a single reassuring nod. Daryl thinks he sees a shimmer in the man's eyes that wasn't there a few minutes ago. He nods back at Hershel and turns to walk away.

"Daryl?"

Daryl's heart seizes. He figures Hershel has changed his mind. Thinks he's fixin' to tell him to stay the hell away from Beth like he probably should have done in the first place. But he turns back to Hershel anyway, expecting the worst, but ready to fight for Beth all the same.

"When the Governor comes back, and you know he will, you do what you can to get Beth out of here."

It takes Daryl a second to switch gears. To realize what Hershel is saying. What he's asking. "I will," he promises, with every fiber of his being.

"I want you to promise me something else too, Daryl. I know you'll do everything in your power to keep her safe, but you're only human. There comes a time when somebody or some thing takes her away? Promise me you won't let it kill ya'. She wouldn't want that."

Daryl frowns at that. Shakes his head. Knows he can't make that promise. Just the thought of losing Beth makes his heart hurt. Hershel must know he would willingly die to keep her safe. He watches Daryl chew on his words… patiently waits for Daryl to read between the lines. Daryl considers what the older man has said. Realizes Hershel is making him promise not to give up… _Why the hell would Hershel care if he gave up?_ Then it hits him… Hershel cares about him. Cares enough to make him promise to keep on living even if Beth is gone. He realizes too that Hershel gets it. Gets how he feels about Beth. 

Hershel nods at Daryl. Knows he has figured it out. Turns and gets back to the garden. Daryl isn't exactly sure how he feels. He is grateful for Hershel's blessing. Humbled that Hershel would approve, that he would care enough to tell Daryl to keep on living. But he is also a little on edge. A bit angry that her own daddy figures Beth will disappear from this world before him. A world without Beth is not something Daryl chooses to think about. It's too painful to even consider. No way he's gonna' let anything happen to Beth. Hershel is right to think it might kill him. Daryl isn’t sure he could do a thing to stop himself from dying right along beside her.

He finds Beth and Judith on a blanket on the front lawn. Beth is on her back, flying Judith in the air like an airplane above her. A long string of drool is inching closer and closer to Beth's nose. Daryl steps between the girls and the sun. Casts a long shadow across the two of them. It takes Beth's eyes a second to adjust and focus on his face. When she does, the smile she shoots him is brighter than the sun at his back. Heats his skin like a burn. Lil' Asskicker kicks her feet and squeals. Her chubby little arms reach for him. 

"Hey, Babe," she says, and it takes Daryl a second or two to realize she is talking to him and not to the baby in her arms. No one has ever called him anything other than Daryl, At least not anything nice any way, not even his mama. She called him Daryl too. Sometimes she called him Sweet Baby Daryl, but that was only when she was drunk. His dad called him dumbass. And Merle called him whatever stupid play on his name he could come up with. But nobody has ever called him anything other than Daryl because they cared. He thinks he likes it coming from Beth. Thinks he'd like to hear her say it again and again.

"Hey," he answers back with a smile of his own. He plucks Judith from her hands and plops down next to her. Stretches out on his back with a contented sigh. Judith snuggles into his chest and starts gnawing on her little fist. Beth rolls to her side, props herself up on her elbow, and takes to playing with the fine, baby curls on Judith's head. Her sweet girl needs a nap. Daryl settles one arm around Judith, the other behind his head. Turns to look at Beth.

"I talked to your dad."

Beth's hand stalls on Judith's back, but only for a second. "Oh yeah?" she asks. "What did he say?" 

Daryl looks back to the sky. "He said he's a'ight with it. With us…" He peaks at Beth. Sees that impossibly wide smile of hers. "Said some other stuff too. Got me thinkin'."

Beth's smile changes. Twists from giddy to curious. Nobody ever smiled much where Daryl was from. At least not that he ever noticed. But lately, Beth's smiles have become a near-on fascination for him. Seems like she has a smile to match her every mood. She even has a sad smile. _Who the hell has a "sad" smile, and when the hell did he start noticing shit like that?_ He isn't sure, but he knows that ear splittin', happy grin of hers is his favorite so far. 

He's lost his train of thought. That too has been happening a lot lately, especially when Beth is around. 

When the quiet goes on too long, Beth can't help herself. "Daryl," she whines. "What did he say? What are you thinkin' about?" 

Daryl turns back to face her. The tips of his ears are red. He blinks and half smiles, looks a little smug Beth thinks. "That's 'tween me and yer dad."

"Daryl!" she scolds him lightheartedly and pinches his arm for good measure.

"Ow, girl! Let me finish. I was gonna' say, 'I'm thinkin' I'm a lucky som' bitch. Don’t deserve ya' ', but now I'm thinkin' yer a lil' bit mean."

Beth's smile grows. Morphs into a breathy giggle. Daryl watches the cotton candy pink blossom across her cheeks. Prettiest damn thing he's ever seen. She tugs on the scruff at his chin. Lays a small kiss against his lips. "I think we're both pretty lucky." 

Daryl's hand slips behind her neck. Pulls her back to him gently. It's getting harder and harder to maintain control when they're together. She's as addictive as cigarettes, worse he thinks. Cigarettes, he can live without. 

**^TWD^**

Beth finishes reading "Pride and Prejudice" to the book club. She found three copies in the prison library. They were supposed to share the books. Each read a chapter over a few days, and then pass it on to the next person, so on and so forth. But somewhere along the way, they all decided to meet three days a week and have Beth read the book aloud instead. She happily obliged. It _is_ one of her favorite books after all. But reading formal English out loud, for that long at a time, makes her jaws sore. 

It's nearly supper time, and she hasn't seen Daryl since yesterday morning. They've all been busy. There is always a flurry of activity when the council announces a run. Today is the same for Beth as most days though. So far, she has taught an hour of math, an hour of music, and an hour of history, followed by lunch prep and cleanup, a fussy Judith badly in need of a nap, and then the book club. The prison is no Pemberley, but the library is beyond anything she thought she would ever find again. It is well-stocked with some of her favorite classics and a generous helping of guilty pleasure books too. There is also a fairly large section of educational texts. She's using those, and some books Daryl brought back from a run not long after they settled into the prison, to teach the kids. He found the books in a small K-6 school along the way. Thought Beth might could use them for Judith someday. She hopes she's giving the kids a solid foundation. Something they can use to rebuild this world one day. Hopefully make it better than it was before the turn. 

She's looking for Daryl. Working her jaw back and forth when she hears the motorcycle's engine rev. She finds him in the side yard, hidden behind stacked pallets and hundreds of 2x4's. He's tinkering with his bike in what must have been the prison's wood shop storage port. She's not surprised to find him here. It's the first place he goes when he starts preparing for a run.

"Hey, Babe," she says and hops up onto a sturdy looking, wooden work table. He stands up, notices her opening and closing her mouth, rubbing at the corners of her ears. 

"You a'right," he asks.

"Yeah, I'm good. Been readin' to the book club. Guess my jaw's a little tired." 

She invited him to join the book club months ago. Caught him carrying a copy of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance." Seemed impressed with his choice. He didn't have the balls to tell her he grabbed it thinking it actually was a book on motorcycle maintenance. Figured he was stuck reading it so he might as well try and enjoy it. It was mostly bullshit wrapped up a fancy word package. All he really got from it was the guy telling the story liked his bike better than he liked most people. Found peace when he was working on his motorcycle. Daryl could understand that at least. He's doing the same when Beth finds him.

He grabs the rag he keeps in his back pocket and ambles over to her. He's better at keeping his hands clean these days. Touching Beth with dirty hands just doesn't feel right even though she's never complained. Said something one time about liking his hands. Crazy girl. He fits himself between her knees and leans down for a quick kiss. Beth smiles up at him sweetly, taps his legs with her toes. He starts to back away, but Beth is having none of that. She traps him with her legs. Locks her ankles at the back of his thighs and draws him playfully to her.

"I've missed you," she says, voice silky and sincere.

"Missed you too," he mumbles.

Beth tugs on his neck. Stretches up to meet him for another kiss. Only this kiss isn’t quick or chaste like the one before. They've gone from zero to sixty in seconds. Daryl grips her thin hips a little tighter. Briefly thinks about getting her to eat more before all rational thought fades away. Beth is kissing him like a woman possessed. She nips at his bottom lip. Teases his mouth open with her tongue. Daryl pulls her flush against him. Slides his hands roughly up her ribcage and takes the kiss deeper. Beth matches his fervor. Uses her grip around his legs as leverage. Lifts her but off the table and rocks against him knowing he would never let her fall. Daryl's hands slip to her rear. He drags her center against the tops of his jean clad thighs. Settles her against him, right where he wants her. Beth moans and her mouth falls away from his. Daryl doubles down on her pleasure. Trails a litany of kisses from her jaw to her chest. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. Presses harder into him. Her eyes are closed, but her face is the picture of concentration. Daryl nearly loses his mind at the sight of her. Beth whimpers at the loss of his lips against her skin. She whispers his name, breathless and heady. Warning bells tickle at the back of his brain, but he pointedly ignores them. Finds Beth's lips and reclaims her mouth. Her fingers scrape against his scalp. Tangle in his hair. The warning bells grow louder and his lips falter. Beth feels the shift. Knows instantly he's pulling back. She leans her forehead against his. They're both panting. Hearts pounding. Daryl eases her back onto the table. Drops his head to her shoulder and nearly collapses against her. His palms are flat against the table, one on either side of her hips, bearing most of his weight. Beth finds one of them and weaves their fingers together. With the other, she draws lazy figure eights up and down his back. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crook of her neck. 

Beth cups his head and lifts it from her shoulder. "For what," she asks, her voice still a little shaky.

Daryl looks away in shame. Grips the edge of the table at her knees. "Shouldn't 'a lost control like that." 

"Hey," she says and tries to catch his eyes. "Daryl, look at me." His eyes are jumping from one thing to another. Landing on anything but her. Beth brushes the hair back from his brow and says his name again, a little firmer this time. "Look at me, please."

He finally does, and Beth smiles. A closed lip, comforting gesture that helps him relax. "You gotta' quit apologizing for kissin' me. I'm startin' to think you regret gettin' tangled up with me in the first place." She's teasing of course, but Daryl looks stricken by her words. "I'm kidding, Babe," she quickly clarifies, "but you do need to stop apologizin'. You're not forcin' anything on me. I love kissing you." Beth shrugs, and her smile turns shy. "I love the way you make me feel, you know? I want this with you as much as you do."

Daryl shakes his head. Frowns like he can't understand the words coming from her mouth. "I jus' want ya' to be sure, Beth. I can be a real asshole sometimes. You need to know what you're gettin' yourself into with me."

"Daryl," she says so gently it nearly breaks his heart. "We've talked about this before. I know exactly what I'm getting myself into. How long have we been together now?"

Daryl shakes his head, "Couple a months or so."

"No," she sing-songs, "it's been a couple of months since you finally kissed me. How long have we been together? Me and you against the world," she teases. "When do you think that started?"

He looks her over. Wonders what she's getting' at. "I dunno." He thinks back, and the answer appears pretty clearly. "Guess it started for me that night I climbed your treehouse. Back on the farm."

He knows he nailed it when Beth lets loose the biggest, brightest smile he's ever seen. It washes over him in waves. Blasts away the grease and dirt that covers his self-conscious doubt. Doubt as to how someone as amazing as Beth could love a nobody like him. But, he _knows_ she does. It goes against everything he's ever been told, but Beth makes him believe he matters. His heart is hers, for better or worse, that's never going to change. He loves her with everything he has. Knows the only thing he wants to do is make her happy. When she's happy, he's happy, and he likes the way that feels.

Beth is talking and her eyes are shining, but he can't quite make out what she's saying over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. She says something about that night in the treehouse. Thinks that must be when this whole thing started for her too. He draws in a deep breath. Concentrates on calming the hell down. Wishes he had a damn cigarette between his fingers. He settles for chewing on the inside of his lip. Tries to focus on Beth and what she's saying. Beth lifts her eyebrows, and he realizes he's missed something important.

"You okay?" she asks.

"Shit, Beth" he grumbles. "I love you. That's the only damn thing I know for sure right now."

Beth's jaw goes slack, and her big blue eyes grow impossibly wide. She freezes. Stares at him for the longest beat before she remembers to breath. She draws in a quick, hard breath. Starts blinking against the moisture pooling in her eyes. "Oh," she whispers. Tucks her lip between her teeth and grins around it. She's on him in an instant. Nearly knocks him over when she slams against him. Arms and legs wrap around him like a spider monkey. She hugs him as tight as she can. Hols on to him like he might evaporate. He's never been hugged like this before. Thinks he could get used to it with Beth. Thinks he could get used to a lot of things with Beth. 


	9. Streamers

**Chpt 9: Streamers**

Daryl finds Beth in the kitchen with Carol and Merle.

"Hey, Babe," she says, and Daryl plants a quick kiss on her cheek.

The gals are working on supper for the prison. Canned chili and stale saltines, an easy fix for this evening's meal. Merle is down on all fours, head in one of the ovens, scrubbing the inside of it clean. Daryl snags a cracker, stops behind Merle, and pops him on the ass. A muffled, "Damn it, Daralina," floats from the oven. 

"Be quicker to feed ya' to them walkers out there on the fence," Daryl hollers back.

"Daryl!" Beth scolds him with mock indignation. Daryl shrugs and shoots her a, "what'd I do?" face. Carol chuckles at the banter even if Daryl's joke is entirely inappropriate. Death, self-inflicted or otherwise is no joking matter, especially with the way things are now, but lighthearted moments are few and far between these days. 

"Council set a date for the run this mornin'. Headin' back to the Big Spot day after tomorrow. Anything ya'll need?"

"I already gave my list to Maggie, but thanks," Carol says

"Anything you need, Beth?" He figures she'll just say no like always, but he goes ahead and asks her anyway. Just in case.

"Actually yes, there is something I need. Well, not need, I guess, but"

"What is it," Daryl asks. He didn’t mean to cut her off, but Beth never asks for anything. Don’t matter if she needs it or not. If there is something she wants, he's determined she'll have it. 

"If you can, look in the party section. I need streamers. All different colors, if possible, please."

Daryl's eyes narrow to nothing more than slits. "The hell you need streamers for?"

"We've been working on a cake recipe, no eggs, no milk," she says and flicks her wrist back and forth between her and Carol. "We wanna' have a birthday party."

"For who," he asks, wondering who could be so damn important that Beth is asking for streamers.

"Everybody," she says emphatically as if it's that obvious. "Everybody sits at their birthday month table so we can celebrate everybody's birthday all at once. It’s a good way to get know each other too. But we can't have a birthday party without streamers… Well, I guess we could, but it wouldn't be near as much fun."

Daryl stares at her for a long second. Shakes his head. "I'll find ya' some streamers."

Beth bounces on her toes and Daryl can't help the little spasm in his upper lip.

Rick joins them in the kitchen, carrying baby Judith on his hip. "You mind if I go ahead and grab a bowl? Was gonna' try to eat a little somethin' before she's ready to be fed."

"Sure!" Carol says and dips out a bowl of chili for him.

"Here, let me take her," Beth offers. "I've got her supper ready right over here." 

Beth opens her hands to Judith and the little girl falls forward, right into her arms. She's gnawing on her fist, working hard on getting that first tooth to pop through. Daryl hands Carol two more bowls to fill and Beth grabs Judith's oatmeal and rice.

The three of them slide into their usual spot in the commons just as the rest of the prison inhabitants start to file in for supper. 

"Hey," Beth says, "when's your birthday?"

"October. You?"

"May… What month you think we're in now?"

Daryl thinks about it for a second. Glances at the narrow windows that line the top of the concrete walls. "Dunno'. April, maybe?"

"Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin'. Means Easter's comin'. I wish we had some plastic eggs and candy for the kids to hunt." She looks genuinely sad at the notion of Easter with no eggs and chocolate.

"I can look for some at the Big-Spot."

"Nah, no candy left, I'm sure. Not what Easter's really about anyway."

"You still believe in all that? Even after all the shit we seen?"

Beth shrugs. Scoops up another bit of oatmeal for Judith and glides it through the air like an airplane. She makes a silly face when the spoon reaches Judith's mouth. Smiles big and wide when the baby girl scrunches her nose in a silly face of her own. Judith opens her little mouth and takes the oatmeal like a champ. "I suppose I do. Can't imagine this life is all there is."

"You mean heaven?"

Beth takes a focused interest in stirring the oatmeal and rice. Taps the spoon against the bowl and watches the thick, off-white glob drop back into the mush. She finally nods and looks back up at Daryl. "Yeah… I was taught that heaven is the goal, ya' know? The reward. Love God. Believe in Jesus… I was baptized when I was 12. Made a commitment to God with my heart. Can't just walk away from that. There's still good in this world, Daryl… Look at Judith. She's a miracle. And our family? What we've built here? It's not just random. Neither are we… me and you, I mean."

Daryl is chewing on the inside of his lip. Listening to Beth stand up for what she believes in. She's loyal and kind, and he thinks again how damn lucky he is to have her. Or maybe it ain't luck at all. Maybe Beth's right and them being together ain't random. Either way, he'll take it. And be grateful for it. Beth is the best damn thing that's ever happened to him… by far. He isn’t sure what to say to her. Not sure he needs to say anything at all. So, he walks around to her side of the table, takes Judith from her lap, and plants a kiss on her forehead.

"Eat yer' chili. I'll finish feedin' Lil Asskicker." He sits back down across from her and feeds Judith the rest of her food. Beth watches the two of them. She loves watchin' him with Judith. Makes her wonder if maybe she and Daryl could have a little one of their own someday. Probably a crazy dream with the way the world is now, but the thought warms her heart through and through.

Daryl heads to the showers when Judith finishes her supper. He's been reinforcing the fences all day. Walking the perimeter, making sure there are no weak spots. He always does this before he goes on a run. Feels compelled to do everything he can to leave his family as secure as possible while he is gone. 

Beth spent her day with Rick and her daddy and Carl in the garden. They sorted through the remnants of what was left from the prison's garden last year, pulled weeds, and tended to their new rows. Daryl found a garden hose in storage a few weeks back. It reaches the old garden, but not the new rows they've planted. They still have to fill buckets and hall water, but not quite as far as before. She likes spending time in the garden. Doesn't mind the hard work one bit. It reminds her of her mama's garden, and hours spent with her mama working the soil and watching it grow. 

When Daryl leaves, Beth wonders over to sit with Maggie and Glenn. She hasn't seen the two of them much in the last few days. Figures they've been sneaking off to be together as much as possible before one of them heads to the Big-Spot. They ask her how she's doing and what she's been up to. Maggie tells her she looks happy. Tells Glenn to remember to find Beth a bottle of sunscreen before he leaves the Big-Spot. Glenn chimes in. Says something about needing to find Beth and Daryl their own stash of protection too. He's just joking, but his off-color remark earns him a slap from both girls.

"Glenn, would you mind to take our dishes to the sink, please? I wanna' talk to Beth for a second."

"Sure thing," he says and gives Beth a wink. 

Beth knows what Maggie wants to talk about. Figures that's where Glenn's little joke came from. He walks away and Maggie leans in close across the table.

"I'm sorry about Glenn, but seriously Beth, are you and Daryl being careful? You _have_ to be careful, Beth. I know it's easy to get swept away, but you tell Daryl I'll kick his ass if he doesn't use protection."

"Maggie, stop. We aren't… I mean, we haven’t been together yet. And you might be surprised to learn that Daryl's the one puttin' the whammy on that whole situation."

"What do ya' mean," Maggie asks.

"I mean… every time it feels like we're there, he pulls back. Says we gotta' stop before we get too carried away."

Maggie's lips pucker while she thinks on that for a minute. She crosses her arms on the table and cocks her head to the side. "Maybe he's just tryin' to be careful with ya'."

"He is. I think this is all pretty new for him too. Not that he's never been with anyone. Just, I don’t know, I think it's different with me. I think _he's_ different with me. Does that make sense?"

Maggie smiles warmly at her baby sister. "Yeah… I get it. Makes perfect sense." Her smile grows even wider, "Who would have ever thought you'd be the one to tame Daryl Dixon, redneck extraordinaire."

"Maggie, that's not nice. He's not that guy anymore."

"I know," she says. "I'm just kidding. I'm happy for ya' Beth. Daryl's a good man." 

Beth smiles at that, and Maggie reaches over. Squeezes her hand. "I'm here for ya', Bethy. If you wanna' talk about anything." When she stands up to leave, she kisses Beth on the head. "Glenn was only half jokin'. I'll make sure he adds those to the list," she whispers and taps her finger on a little square package she has left on the table.

Beth looks closer at the package. Realizes what Maggie has left behind and slams her hand down on top of it. She can feel her cheeks heat up. Suspects she looks like she might have a fever at this point. She shoves the packet in her pocket and looks at Judith. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she says flatly and makes a silly face at her baby girl. Judith keeps gnawing on her fist. Smiles around it back at Beth. Beth gives her a quick kiss and looks around for Carl or Rick. 

Rick is still talking to her daddy, and Carl is nowhere to be seen, so Beth takes Judith outside where it's quiet. Judy spent the day with Carol and a few of the younger kids in the group. Beth suspects she either didn't get a nap or else her nap was cut short by the noise and chaos that generally surrounds that group. Judy's even too tired to fuss. They're sitting on a picnic table just outside the commons. Beth's singing an old Bread tune that her mama used to sing to her, rocking Judith side to side against her chest. Rick spots them. Stops to listen for a minute when he gets within ear shot. 

" _And when my love for life is running dry, you come and pour yourself on me. If a man could be two places at one time, I'd be with you. Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way…"_

"Hey," Rick whispers. "Thanks for takin' her and feedin' her. She's a tired girl tonight, huh," he says and takes a sleepy Judith from Beth. He tells her to enjoy her night. Thanks her for taking care of Judith and Daryl and everybody else too, for that matter. Beth just smiles. Kisses Judith on the head and hops down off the table. 

The commons is quiet when she walks back through, just a few folks from Woodbury wiping down the tables and cleaning up the floor. Normally Beth would stop and offer to help, but tonight she's ready for a shower and a little cuddle time with Daryl. 

After a less than hot shower, Beth drops her things off in her cell, and climbs the steps to Daryl's perch. He is lying on his bed, eyes closed, both arms behind his head. He looks completely relaxed, stretched out on top of the covers in a dark t-shirt and a thin pair of pajama pants. Beth shuts the door behind her without a sound. But when she turns around, Daryl's watching her with a lazy smile on his face.

"Oh," she says. "I thought you might be sleepin'." Her thick waves are still wet from her shower. They nearly reach the center of her back now. She's wearing a red Def Leppard t-shirt, what he thinks might be an oversized pair of men's boxers, and white tube socks pulled up to her knees. His idea of sexy-as-hell is re-defined in an instant. Beth tip toes across the room and crawls over him. Grabs the extra blanket at the foot of the bed and stretches out half on top of him. Her ear settles right on top of his heart where it always seems to land. Daryl wraps and arm around her waist and pulls her snug against him. He's always so warm. Her own personal heater.

"Missed you today," he says, low and quiet. The words scrape across the gravel in his throat, and Beth's belly does a little roller coaster dive at the sound of it.

"I missed you too," she whispers.

"Was thinkin' 'bout what you said at supper. 'Bout God puttin' you and me together."

"Yeah? What about it?"

Daryl shrugs beneath her. She's figured out he always does that right before he gives you his opinion on something. It's sort of a "take it or leave, but this is what I think," intro. "He knew what he was doin'. Figured I oughta' thank him for it."

"You mean you prayed?"

"Prolly' didn't do it right. Didn't get on my knees or nothin'."

"You don’t have to get on your knees. You don't even really have to talk. He already knows what you're thinkin'."

"Shit. Then I'm in some real trouble," he half-heartedly jokes.

"Nooooh," she assures him. "He knows your heart. And you have a good heart, Daryl Dixon."

He answers with a hum, not quite believing he agrees with that.

"I was thinking about all that too… in the shower," she says and props her chin on the back of her hand so she can see him. "Wonderin' how He would have put us together if the world had kept on spinnin' like before."

"What do ya' mean?"

"Like, how we would've met. What would our story be?"

"You're crazy, girl," he says. "No way in hell you'd notice me."

"That's not true!"

"Pfff," he answers.

"I'm serious," she says in earnest. "We woulda' met in that world too. And we'd be together, just like we are now. I bet… we would have met on my way to Nashville," she says and smiles like she's figuring it all out in her head. Her wheels are turning. He can see it in the way her eyes are dancing with an idea. "I'm drivin' down the highway when my car... No! When my _Jeep,_ my bright red, two door Wrangler, starts makin' a funny clankin' sound. The engine sputters out, and I break down on the side of the road. I call for a tow truck, and you show up. You're wearin' dark jeans and a sleeveless flannel. You take a look under the hood, and I take a long look at those arms of yours. Tell myself this day might not be so bad after all."

"Wait. What?" Daryl says.

Beth giggles and watches the tips of his ears turn pink. "Stop interrupting," she scolds him playfully. Figures she'll leave the discussion about his arms and the way she feels about them for another day.

"Anyway," she continues in mock annoyance, "you take me and my Jeep back to the garage you own in town." Beth sits up on her knees and frames an imaginary sign with her hands. "Dixon's Autobody Shop." Daryl smiles at that. Marvels at the confidence she has in him, even if it is just a story.

"I don't have much money," she says, "and the part you need has to be ordered. It's Friday, of course, late afternoon, so I'm stuck until Monday at least, maybe Tuesday. I'm freakin' out about how I'm gonna' afford to fix the Jeep _and_ afford a hotel for that many days. But, you and your kind heart calm me down and walk me across the street to the local diner for lunch… to Carol's Diner," she declares. 

A mischievous grin spreads across her face. Daryl smiles back at her. He's enjoying listening to her story. Mostly he likes watching her tell her story… Their story. Loves the way her blue eyes are shining and her petite little nose wrinkles when the next idea hits her.

"You buy me a piece of pie and ask Carol if she minds lettin' me stay with her for a couple of nights. See, Carol is your sister-in-law…" Daryl snorts at that. Shakes his head good naturedly at Beth's nonsense. "She and Merle own the diner together," she says through a smile, "and you live in the apartment upstairs. She offers me the guest room at their house, but she and Merle won't be headed home until after the diner closes. So, I offer to help out and Carol smiles that, I-know-somethin'-you-don't-know, smile of hers and asks me to sing during the supper run. You come back after work to eat and end up hangin' around until I'm done singin'. When it slows down, Carol sends me upstairs with you until they're ready to leave. Over the next couple of hours, we talk and laugh, and you fall madly in love with me," she says dramatically and falls to her side. Daryl's laughing now, actually laughing. It's a quiet, airy sort of chuckle that rolls out from the back of his throat. Beth thinks it's the best thing she's ever heard. 

"Then what," he asks and Beth's heart sores. She scoots over to him and pillows her head on his belly.

"Then…" she sing-songs, and takes a second to think about what happens next. "You get my Jeep fixed. It's Wednesday, though you coud've had it ready to go on Monday afternoon. You're out of excuses, and you're a terrible liar so… I'm hanging out at your shop. Taking my time loadin' up the Jeep. Wonderin' how I'm gonna' be able to say goodbye because, truth is, I've fallen madly in love with you too," she says and turns her head to look at Daryl. The way he is staring at her causes her to stumble on her words. A pleasant warmth spreads from her belly to her cheeks. There's a buzz in the air, like static electricity. They both feel it, and Daryl's heart starts to pick up speed. Beth takes his hand, pulls it to her, and ghosts her fingers up, down, and in between each of his. 

She swallows hard and continues with their story. Tells it a little slower now. She almost sounds sad, like maybe she has a lump caught in her throat. "You haven't even kissed me yet," she says, "but I already know in my heart you're the one. Then, like you can read my mind, you ease a little closer... Tuck a wisp of hair behind my ear and lean in real slow… I take ahold of the hem of your shirt. Lift up on my toes, and you kiss me… Slow and easy... At first. it tastes like a new beginning, but the longer we kiss, the more it feels like goodbye. It's like my heart is wakin' up and dyin' too, all at the same time. Your arm slides around my waist, and you pull me in as tight as you can against ya'. We keep kissin' and kissin' until neither one of us can breathe..."

Beth's feeling a little winded in the present too. Can't keep her voice from dropping into a heady whisper. She's still playing with his fingers. Tracing every line and callous like she' memorizing the lay out of his hand. She glances at Daryl again and sees he's breathing a little quicker too. She feels like she's burning from the inside out. Her belly is doing that dip and flip it always does when he looks at her like that. Like he's barely keeping himself together and it's all her fault. She can't look away from him. Finishes their story on a whisper. "I ask you to come to Nashville with me… Or maybe you ask me to stay and make a life with you here. Doesn't matter where we are. Five kids, one long and happy life together, and the rest, as they say, is history."

Daryl stares at her for a second. Rolls their story around in his head. Beth's watching him watching her, wondering what he might be thinking… "Come 'ere," he says, voice deep and commanding. 

Beth rolls to her knees, and Daryl pulls her across him to straddle his thighs. He tucks her hair behind her ear, just like in their story. Slides his hand behind her neck and pulls her in for a long, languid kiss. Things are heating up quickly when Daryl pulls back suddenly, sending Beth a little off balance. "Five kids, huh?" He says it like he's actually considering it as a possibility.

Beth is caught completely off guard. She opens her mouth to speak, but words won't form.

"I'm thinking we ended up in Nashville," he says. "You musta' been the next damn Garth Brooks to afford five kids." His lip does that jumpy, twitchy thing it does when he's trying not to smile.

Beth bursts out laughing. A full-on belly laugh that forces Daryl to release that smile he's trying to hide. She gives him a quick kiss on the lips. Says, "I love you, Daryl Dixon."

He's feeling playful. Says, "I love you too, Beth Greene." He's never seen this side of himself before. Didn't know he had it in him. Just another thing he owes this beautiful woman in his lap. 

"I wish you didn't have leave so soon," she says. "Day after tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," he says "Going with Michonne, Glenn, and Sasha."

Beth is playing with the hem of his t-shirt, sliding her fingers back and forth across his belly. "How long you think you'll be gone?"

"Not sure. Prolly' gonna' take the backroads this time. Figure two days there, two days back…"

Beth doesn’t answer, but a deep, sad sigh lets him know she isn’t happy about it. He squeezes her knees. Lets her know he gets it. He doesn’t like the idea of being away from her for that long, any more than she does. Truth is, he doesn’t like being away from her for more than a few hours these days. He wonders if that makes him weak. Figures Merle would say it does, but Daryl would call him on that bullshit real quick. He sees the way his brother acts around Carol. Merle's as whipped as he is. The way Daryl figures it, Beth makes him stronger. Makes him better. He's not sure how they happened, but if Beth thinks God is responsible, he's sure as hell willing to thank Him for it.

"Where'd you go" she asks.

"Hmmm?"

Beth's face swims back into focus. She's studying him curiously. Wearing a little worry crease between her brows.

"Just thinkin'," he says.

"You worried about the run?"

"Pfff. Nah," he gruffs and pulls himself up a little straighter in the bed. He bends his knees behind Beth so she can lean back against them. He's the picture of relaxed, but Beth knows him better than that. He's scratching at his thumbnail. Choosing his words. "Just don’t like bein' away from ya's all." 

Beth smiles at that, soft and sincere. Looks him over. Sucks the corner of her lip between her teeth and searches his face. He loves it when she does that thing with her lip. It heats him up. Makes his toes tingle. Beth brushes his hair back from his eyes. "I don’t like bein' away from you either. I don't like it one bit" she says.

It's his turn to look _her_ over. She's an open book, laid out before him. Honest and kind and so damn _good._ He wishes he could find all those pretty words people use, when they're in love, to tell her exactly how he feels. Wants to scream those words from the watchtower. "I love you," just doesn't seem like enough, even though those three little words would have been impossible for him just a few short months ago. He is completely in love with Beth Greene, and nobody is more surprised by that fact than him. Even crazier, he thinks, is the truth that she loves him too.

Overwhelmed by everything he feels for her, he shoots forward. Captures her lips in a searing kiss. Pours everything he can't say into that kiss. Beth gets it. Gives as good as she gets. Her hands tangle in his hair. Scrape across his scalp. Daryl slides his hands heavy up her thighs. Pulls her center flush against him, and Beth presses into him on instinct. She rocks her hips and groans. Daryl's hands slip beneath her t-shirt. Journey up and down her back, callouses scraping against skin as soft as lamb's wool. Beth claws at his shoulders. Throws her head back and arches into him when he sets to work on her neck. He makes his way back to her lips, and their kisses slow. Less frenzied, more intentional and thorough. Beth rocks against him again, and Daryl's breath catches in his throat. He drags his lips from hers, and braces his hands against her shoulders.

"We gotta' stop, Beth." 

Beth slumps and pouts. They're both winded and flushed. Daryl cups her cheek. Runs his thumb across her bottom lip. It's dark and swollen. Her hair is a wild riot of waves and curls, still damp from her shower. His hands fall heavily back to her thighs. 

"If we don't stop now…"

"I don’t wanna' stop," she says in a rush.

"Beth," he almost pleads.

"I want you to touch me, Daryl… I wanna' be with you because I love you. Because I'm ready… We're ready."

Daryl starts chewing on the inside of his lip. There's a war raging inside his head. He knows what his heart wants. No debate there. But more than anything, he wants to do right by Beth.

"Ya' ever done this before?"

Beth shakes her head, "no" and shrugs. "I've never been in love before."

"You know it hurts… the first time." He's not trying to scare her, but he wants her to know the facts.

Beth nods. "I know, but I trust you… You'd never hurt me on purpose."

Daryl starts chewing on his lip again. Takes his time studying her. "Ever been touched," he asks softly.

Beth shakes her head again. "Jimmy tried. Especially after the turn. He got pretty pushy, but…" 

Daryl sweeps her hair back from her face. Wraps it up in his fists at the back of her neck. "One thing at a time," he says and gently nudges her forward. He meets her halfway and kisses her tenderly. Kisses her so thoroughly, Beth thinks she might shatter. They part and Beth's eyes float open. Daryl's eyes are locked onto hers looking for any sign of doubt, but Beth knows exactly what she wants. She leans in and kisses him again. His hands drop to the hem of her tee, and Beth keeps kissing him. She shudders when his knuckles scrape against her ribs as he lifts her tee. He moves slowly to give her time to change her mind, but Beth lifts her arms and Daryl obliges. Her shirt hits the floor and Daryl presses his lips to hers again. He teases the straps of her dingy white bra from her shoulders and trails soft, open-mouth kisses down her neck and across her collar bone. He tugs at the straps again and, one by one, Beth frees her arms from their constraints. She fiddles with the hook in the back and lets the bra fall to her lap. Daryl steals a peek, but Beth has her hands crossed over her chest, one covering each breast. He looks at her questioningly. Thinks maybe she's changed her mind. "We can stop, Beth," he says gently. "Ain't gonna push ya' ta' do nothin' you ain't ready for." 

"No, it’s not that," she says. "It's just… they're so small… they've always been small. Not like Maggie..." she trails off.

Daryl's shakes his head. Can't imagine Beth would ever worry about how she looks. Prettiest damn thing he's ever seen, inside and out. There's more to her worry than she's saying. He's sure of it. He's no stranger to emotional scars. Figures dumbass Jimmy said something hateful to her when she wouldn't let him have his way with her. He scowls at her. Wonders how she can think she is anything less than perfect to him. He twists on his rear and drops his feet to the floor. Beth's hands fly to his shoulders leaving her chest completely exposed for his scrutiny.

"Perfect," she hears him mumble before he sets her on her feet and yanks his t-shirt over his head. Beth barely has time to register the cut of his abs before he spins around exposing his back and all its puckered scars for her scrutiny. It's dark in the perch, but the moon is just bright enough through the window to illuminate the shiny, corrugated strips of skin that litter the length of his back. His chin is tucked, and his fists are balled at his sides. Beth steps toward him. Runs her fingers lightly over what must have been deep, deep cuts at the beginning. Daryl tries not to flinch when she touches him.

"Your father?" she whispers.

Daryl hums his reply and side-eyes her over his shoulder.

She realizes he has "one-upped" her on purpose. Shared something deeply private and painful with her for the sole purpose of helping her move past her self-conscious doubt. She slides her arms around his waist from behind. Presses her cheek and her bare chest to his back. She is speechless. Daryl relaxes into her. Remembers to breathe. 

"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispers. "All of ya'," and covers her hands with his. 

Beth slides around to his front. Lays her palms flat against his chest. She does that thing with her lip that sets him on fire. 

"I love ya', Beth," he says again. Louder this time so she knows he means it. He likes the way it feels on his tongue. Thinks he could get used to saying it. "I'm always gonna' love ya'."

Beth nods. Rises on her toes and slides her hands to the back of his neck. "I know," she says. "I'm always gonna' love you too, Daryl. Every bit of ya'." 

A/N Thanks for reading! Appreciate your thoughts and comments!


	10. Prison Break

Chpt 10: Prison Break

Daryl wakes just as the sun is thinking about rising. There's a veil of blond waves tickling his nose, and he can't move his arm. Beth is wrapped around his bicep, squeezing it to her chest. Her forehead is pressed into his shoulder and her leg is flung haphazardly across his. He is more than happy to be stuck right where he is. He sweeps her hair off his face and tries to gently pat it down to her side, but it won't stay. Just like Beth, it has a mind of its own.

"I should have braided it before I fell asleep," she says. Her voice thick and scratchy with morning haze. 

"Didn't mean to wake ya'." 

She uncurls from his side and stretches out on her back like a cat. When she opens her eyes, she sees that Daryl has flipped to his side and propped his head on his fist. He's watching her come alive. A shy and sleepy smile spreads across her face. "You didn't. I was already awake," she whispers. The way Daryl is looking at her brings back the memory of last night in a rush. Beth's stomach clinches pleasantly, and she turns to her side to face him. Daryl scoots down in the bed so that they are eye to eye. He flops his arm across her waist and, in one deft move, rolls her to her back and pulls her beneath him. Beth makes a quiet, squeally-giggly noise that reminds him of everything they shared last night.

"You a'ight," he asks, worried she might be sore or maybe even regret what happened between them. 

"I am," she says, and cradles his cheek in her hand. She runs her thumb lazily back and forth across his jaw. 

Flashes of last night, like photographs, pop across his brain. He thinks about how she fit in is arms when he swept her up and carried her to the bed. How she trembled beneath him, naked and vulnerable, but trusting him completely. He is still fascinated by Beth's beautiful assent … in awe of her trust in him as he explored every part of her while she climbed higher and higher… arching into his push and retreat until finally shattering against him in waves. The way she breathed his name when she crash-landed. He had never seen nor heard anything more beautiful. He remembers her shy, satisfied smile when she opened her eyes and caught him staring at her. 

She was so damn worried about taking care of _him,_ she barely gave herself time to recover. Daryl tried to explain that this night was all about her. How it gave him the most pleasure he's ever experienced to be the one to pull those desperate moans from her lips. To see her tumble over the edge under his touch. But Beth, being beautiful Beth, was not having it. She pushed him back against the mattress. Fumbled awkwardly with his pajama pants until they landed in a heap on top of hers. Sat back on her knees and studied him for a minute, eyes at first growing wide, before settling into a narrowed focus. Beth ran a quivering hand lightly along his inner thigh. Goosebumps prickled across Daryl's arms and legs. When she closed in on her intended target, it seemed to reach for her, pulsating in anticipation. She hesitated. Her hand hovering over his center. When she peeked at him through her lashes, Daryl took over. He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her to him. Rolled them over and kissed her worry away. But Beth was not willing to leave things undone. Determined to take care of Daryl in the same way he had taken care of her, Beth's fingers inched their way down his chest, turned and made a slow decent across his abdomen. 

"Daryl," she whispered, and he knew exactly what she was asking. What she needed him to do.

So, he covered her hand and guided it to his center, offering her silent instruction. He moved her hand up and down his length, increasing the pressure and gaining speed as the heat rose in his gut. He hummed his pleasure, and his hand fell away from Beth's. Beth kept working with a single-minded determination to please him as much as he had pleased her. Daryl rolled to his back and brought Beth with him. She settled against him. Planted soft, open-mouth kisses on his neck and chest sending him closer and closer to the edge. His hips jerked forward. Fell into rhythm with Beth's unwavering cadence. As he reached the precipice, he grabbed at the sheet and covered himself, protecting Beth from his release. Beth felt the eruption beneath her grip. Held her breath as Daryl's fingers squeezed her bottom and pulled her tight against him. She watched him tumble over the edge with a deep grunt and a long, satisfied moan. Beth let go of him and pushed up on her elbow. A slow, sheepish smile spread across Daryl's face. Beth tucked her lip between her teeth and smiled right along with him. He opened his eyes to find Beth watching him, wide-eyed and flushed. 

"Come 'ere," he whispered, still a little breathless. He met her halfway and kissed her tenderly. "You okay?"

Beth nodded and smiled at him sweetly. Daryl swung his legs around and cleaned himself up with the sheet. He handed Beth her t-shirt and boxers, pulled on his pajama pants, and scooted back in the bed on his back. He pulled Beth to his chest and ran his fingers through the mess of curls that had finally dried. 

"You were perfect, Sweetheart," he said, knowing what it's like to need reassurance now and again.

"Yeah?" she said rather smugly.

"Hell, yeah," Daryl agreed.

Beth hugged him close and felt an overwhelming need to close her eyes. She drifted off to sleep to the even rise and fall of Daryl's chest. 

They are both lost in their thoughts of last night when a knock on the door steals their attention. 

"Daryl, you up?" Merle hollers and rattles the doorknob. "Daryl?" Thank goodness, Daryl had the presence of mind to lock the door before he literally swept Beth off her feet last night and carried her to bed.

"I'm up," Daryl grouses, yanks on his t-shirt, and opens the door, just enough to lean through it. "What?"

"You gonna' let me in lil' brother," he asks with a suspicious grin.

"No, I ain't. What do ya' want?"

"You got somethin' in there you don’t want me to see? Something 'bout yay high," he says and holds his arm up to his chest, "topped with those pretty, blond curls you're sa' fond of?"

Knowing how Daryl hates lying and figuring he's gonna' be apologizing for days if he has to rat her out, Beth decides to do it herself. She crawls off the bed and sidles up behind Daryl. Slides under the arm he has raised against the door and peers up at Merle. 

"Busted," she says. "Is there somethin' we can help you with at this hour of the mornin', or are you just bein' an asswipe for fun?" 

Merle stares at her for a long second before he throws his head back and barks a laugh toward the ceiling. "Damn, Daralina. You got yer'self a real spitfire here, huh. I like you, Blondie."

"I like you too, Merle. Most of the time anyway, but _not_ when you call him that awful name. Trust me, your brother is no Daralina," she says suggestively.

"That right?" Merle says curiously.

"Absolutely."

Daryl drops his hand to Beth's waist and gives it a grateful squeeze.

Merle laughs again and nods in resignation. "I apologize for the intrusion. But I was hopin' _Daryl_ , here, might help me with somethin' before the rest of the prison decides to rise and shine."

"What's up," Daryl asks.

"Got another walker build up. Back side of the prison. Just like last week. Found somethin' I wanna' show ya'."

Daryl and Beth both frown at that. Beth turns to look at Daryl, but he and Merle seem to be having a silent conversation. "I'm gonna' go get dressed. Help Carol with breakfast," she says. "See ya' later?"

Daryl bends down and plants a quick kiss on Beth's lips. "Later."

Beth scoots past Merle and hops down the stairs. He watches her all the way to the bottom and then turns to follow Daryl into the perch.

"You done good, lil' brother. Blondie there's quite the catch."

Daryl ignores him and pulls on his boots.

"I'm serious," he says, and his tone completely changes. "You deserve to be happy."

Daryl eyes his brother warily but seems to accept him at his word. Nods his "thanks"

"What do ya' wanna' show me?"

They walk to the fence at the back of the prison. The furthest point from cell block C. There is nothing behind it but deep woods. Merle shows him the pile of dead walkers on the other side of the fence. "Killed 12 last night. Saw 'em from the tower. Thought maybe they'd grabbed one of us through the fence the way they were actin'. All riled up. Saw this when I got here." He points to a board with three gutted rats nailed to it, lying against the fence, right in front of the pile of walkers.

"What the hell," Daryl says. 

"Looks like somebody's havin' fun playin' with biters."

Daryl starts chewing on the inside of his lip. "This ain't good. Any idea who?"

"Carol thinks it might be one a' the kids. One a' the girls, but she ain't sure, exactly."

"We gotta' figure it out. Fence might not hold next time." He picks up the board and carries it with him. Merle follows at his side. "Listen, while I'm gone… Anything happens, I need ya' ta' get Beth out. Keep her safe. Head North. I'll find ya'."

Merle nods. "I can do that, lil' brother."

Daryl thanks him with a nod of his own. "Get some sleep. I'll burn them walkers after while. Gotta' talk to the council."

Daryl gathers the council after breakfast and tells them about the rats and the walkers. They decide to go ahead with the Big-Spot run, but only two of them will go. Daryl and Sasha will take the pick-up, get there and back as soon as possible. Beth won't like it when she hears the plan, but Daryl agrees it makes sense. He doesn’t like the thought of leaving Beth here without him. Considers asking her to come with him. 

Daryl heads to the make-shift garage where all their vehicles are parked. He needs to check the engine on the pick-up. Make sure its ready for the run. He's under the hood when the smell of smoke wafts across his nose. He sees the black cloud dissipating from the east and blowing his way. The sun is past its highest point, and Daryl realizes he has missed lunch, just as his stomach growls in protest. He is surprised Beth didn’t come and find him. Hopes she ain't too mad at him for not showing up to eat with her, considering he's leaving first thing in the morning. He decides he'll make it up to her tonight. Make sure she knows exactly how he feels before he leaves. He wipes his hands on his rag and curls his nose at the smell of the burning walkers. Michonne and Hershel volunteered to take care of the bodies. Kind of them to wait to start after lunch is done. He looks around the yard for Beth. It’s a beautiful day, warm and breezy. Figures she's probably outside somewhere, maybe with Judith, but he doesn't see her yet.

Daryl makes his way to the commons. Finds Carol in the kitchen finishing up the dishes. "I put a few sandwiches back for you and Beth," she says with a coy little grin. 

"Beth missed lunch?"

"I didn't see her. She's not with you?"

He shakes his head and picks up a sandwich.

"Maybe she's with Hershel. I didn’t see him at lunch either."

Daryl frowns a little at that. His spidey senses are tingling and he has a sudden need to find Beth. Outside, he runs into Sasha and Tyreese. "Y'all seen Beth," he asks.

Sasha says she saw Beth walking with Hershel and Michonne across the yard this morning. Daryl nods and heads east toward the smoke. The dead walkers are smoldering, and the smoke is starting to clear, but there is no sign of Beth or Hershel or Michonne. Daryl talked to Michonne about cutting a hole in the fence by the walkers. They agreed that was safer than going outside the fence and walking all the way around to the back of the prison. He squats down next to the hole. Eyes the bolt cutters lying on the concrete next to the three bungie cords and the roll of duct tape he gave Michonne for the temporary repair. He and Merle had planned on reinforcing the fence before supper. Daryl ducks through the hole and follows the three sets of foot prints that circle the melted pile of walkers. His heart seizes when he sees more foot tracks… four pair, leading from the woods and fanning out ten feet or so from the pile. All seven sets meet and disappear back into the woods. His first instinct is to charge out after them and get his family, his Beth, back. But he knows the odds are better with help. He darts back through the hole and takes off at a dead run toward the front of the prison. When he rounds the corner, he sees his family tucked behind a wall, looking at something he can't yet see, past the tower and the gate. He slides to a stop behind them.

"Where's Beth," Maggie demands. 

"I dunno'. I think somethin' happened. Somebody…" He's having a hard time saying out loud what he knows to be true.

"Maggie… Maggie!" Glenn shout-whispers. Maggie jerks her head around to Glenn. He looks stricken. Pulls her forward in front of him so she can see around the wall. The governor has Hershel, Beth, and Michonne on their knees in front of a row of vehicles, including a tank of all things. Maggie gasps and her hand flies to her mouth. Daryl hasn't seen the governor and his entourage yet, but Maggie's reaction tells him exactly who is on the other side of that wall. He sees the barrel of automatic rifles they have stashed behind the barricade. They all knew that prick would be back eventually. Daryl just never imagined Beth would be across the yard in his possession. He pushes off the wall and heads for the barrel. Rick spins and steps in front of him, but Daryl isn't stopping.

"Daryl, wait," he says and puts a hand to his chest. "Listen to me brother. You grab a rifle and start shootin'? Beth ends up dead. You can count on it."

Daryl freezes. Shoves Rick off him, but Rick keeps on. "Let me talk to him. See if I can get him to let 'em go. You get ever'body in position. Be ready up here if this thing goes south."

Daryl gives Rick a hard stare, eyes narrowed. He thinks it over. Backs away. When he turns, he sees the fear in Maggie's eyes. It's a reflection of his own.

Rick and Glenn run to the gate. Glenn pulls it back and Rick bursts through. He holds his hands up on his way to face the governor. Slows a bit when the governor levels the katana at Hershel's neck. Rick tells him it's not too late. They can still work together. Find a way to exist together at the prison. No one has to die. "We're not too far gone," he says. "We can all change." Rick pleads with the governor's better nature. Thinks maybe he is getting through when the governor lowers his weapon.

Daryl can barely hear what Rick is saying for the pounding of his pulse. Everyone has taken cover. They are armed and ready to battle if need be. Daryl stalled in plain sight and caught Beth's eye. She is on her knees, arms behind her back, between Hershel and Michonne. He stands where she can see him, next to the barricade his brother built. Merle is squatting on the other side. Carol is between them, fully hidden and protected for now. Daryl's eyes never leave Beth's.

Suddenly, Beth's face contorts in shock. Her mouth opens, and Daryl is sure she is screaming, but he can’t hear her. He can't hear anything. He grabs the fence with both hands and howls her name. It is then that Hershel falls into Daryl's line of sight and lands on the ground in front of Beth. His focus widens, and he sees the governor swing the katana in her direction. He is pounding on the fence, screaming at Beth to move. Michonne slams into her. Sends Beth careening back between two trucks. Daryl loses sight of her. Sees Michonne disappear in the same direction. He's running down the fence line trying desperately to find her when a bullet pings off the end cap of the fence right next to his face. The noise of battle rushes over him and nearly knocks him to his knes. Maggie is screaming. Guns are firing in rapid succession all around him. Carl throws a rifle to the ground and grabs another one by the strap slung over his shoulder. Daryl is sent barreling, head first, back into the harsh, thundering reality unfolding around him. He lifts his automatic from his side and slides the end trough the chain link. He forgets to aim. Simply holds down the trigger and fires. He catches a glimpse of blond ponytail behind the bed of the blue pick-up. Remembers to aim and starts picking the enemy off, one by one. When the tank rolls through the fences, Daryl takes off toward it. The downed fence is his best chance at getting to Beth. It also gives him something to destroy with the one grenade he carries. He pops it into the gun and waits for the clowns to exit the car before the whole thing goes boom. One guy pops out. He's actually crying over his tank until he turns and sees Daryl aiming his crossbow at his heart. "Asshole," Daryl mumbles and lets the bolt fly. He rips the bolt from the guy's chest and leaves him to his fate. He takes out another three of the governor's men on his way across the field. 

Daryl spots the blue-pick up and marks a path for its back bumper, the last place he caught a glimpse of Beth. He is careful to clear the few remaining vehicles as he goes, but the governor and his men have all hauled ass toward the prison by now. He rounds the front of an old sedan and spots Hershel's decapitated body lying in front of it. His head has rolled a few feet further and landed on its side. Hershel's glassy eyes bore into him, mouth snapping in frustration. Daryl's shoulders slump. He pulls his knife and squats next to Hershel. It takes three starts and stops before he can finally bury the blade into Hershel's temple. He mumbles an apology and swallows his tears. 

Things behind him in the prison are starting to quiet. He is running out of time. 

"Beth!" he hollers. Looks this way and that. "Michonne!"

A rustling from behind the cab of the last pick-up catches his ear. He lifts his bow and moves silently toward it. Beth appears in front of the truck, dragging a rifle loosely by her side. She still has a bit of rope tied around one wrist. Her lips are white, and she is shaking from head to toe. Daryl straps his bow to his back and reaches for her. He wants to grab her and hug her to him as tight as he can, but he doesn’t want to spook her. He slides his hand down her bare arm and cups her elbow. When she doesn't pull away, he gently lifts her chin and catches her eyes. "Beth," he whispers. His voice is rough and strained. She frowns like she is confused. He says her name again and she gasps. Remembers to breathe. Clarity floods her eyes. "Daddy!" she calls and starts past Daryl. He grabs her about the waist and spins her away from the direction where her dad lays. He doesn’t say anything. Holds her in place and tells her without words that he has taken care of Hershel. Nothing else needs to be done. She collapses forward into his chest. Her gun falls to the ground and Daryl wraps her up in his arms.

Daryl's heart is breaking for her. He wants nothing more than to hold her until her tears dry up, but they are out of time. "I know. I'm sorry, Beth, but we gotta' go."

Beth pulls back and looks at him like his words don’t make sense. "But, the others… Maggie and Judith. I can't leave without Judith."

Daryl shakes his head. "We can't go back for 'em." He pleads with her silently to understand. "Beth, we gotta' go… now"

He picks up her gun, hands it to her and starts walking backwards. Pulls her along with him. Its then that he sees the man and woman slumped against the back side of the truck. They have been shot in the chest and stabbed in the temple. No way a bullet from the prison got to them at this angle. He looks to Beth who is pointedly ignoring the dead. _Damn_. Beth takes off at a run, headed for the woods, without looking back. Daryl falls in beside her. 

A/N: Too much detail? Not enough? I was a little shaky on this one. I'm afraid we move into a little angst from here. Daryl withdraws into himself from the shock of losing his family. Only Beth has any chance of pulling him out. This whole thing is outlined. Will try to update again soon. Thanks so much for reading! 


	11. Tastes Like Chicken

This one took a lot of writing and re-writing. It's my twists and takes on their journey post-prison. It's a long one... Enjoy!

**Chpt 11: Tastes Like Chicken**

They stumble through thick ground cover and fall into a clearing. Beth twists and lands on her back. Her stomach is burning, and her lungs are on fire. Daryl swings his crossbow off his shoulder as he collapses next to her, wheezing. Cursing every cigarette he has ever smoked. Beth reaches for him blindly, finds his forearm and slides her hand to his. They lay there, longer than they should, sucking wind and replaying their losses in their minds.

Beth's breathing finally slows, and she regains some modicum of control. She turns her head to Daryl. His eyes are closed, but the rise and fall of his chest appears to be in tandem with hers. She sits up, waits for the dizziness to pass, and squeezes Daryl's fingers. "You okay?"

Daryl's eyes pop open. He looks over to Beth and nods. Pulls himself up with a grunt. "You?"

Beth's lip quirks into a poor excuse for a smile before she looks away. They survey their surroundings. Scan the area for any potential threats. Outside of the clearing itself, there is no evidence that people or walkers have been through here. At least not recently. It’s a natural glade formed and protected by the low hanging, full-leafed canopy of deciduous trees growing all around it. Daryl has the fleeting thought it’s the kind of place he would have set up camp, back in the day. Thinks it would have been a great place to camp with Beth. But right now, his muscles are cramping. He has a stitch in his side that won't go away. His feet are burning. And he feels like he might puke. He's pissed that the governor took their home. Worried as hell the rest of their family might be dead. Mostly, he feels helpless and that pisses him off even more.

"We better move," she suggests. "Find a place to camp for the night."

Daryl huffs and stands. Beth's right. They need to get going, and that pisses him off too. He extends a hand to pull her up. Does so and stomps off without a word. He completely misses the little frown from Beth.

They break from the woods and find the train tracks that run parallel to the highway. There's a fresh pile of human remains next to a pair of children's boots. A little further up, they see a single walker feasting on second pile. Daryl dispatches the walker quickly and steps over the tracks intending to keep on moving. He stops when he hears Beth sobbing. He wants to go to her. Wants to tell her he's sorry about the little boy those boots belonged too, but he can't. He isn't sure why, but he can't make his feet move in her direction. He can't offer her comfort right now. He has spent the last several miles tamping down the anger. Clearing his head. Ignoring the pain in his heart. And focusing solely on his next footfall. He is completely numb. If he goes to Beth, he might start feeling things again, and that will surely destroy him. The most he can afford to give her is a little pity and a hard jut of his chin. They have to keep moving. 

Beth has her cry while Daryl waits at a distance. When her tears finally dry, she catches up to him, but he still has nothing to say. He turns, keeps trekking north, and leaves her to follow. She's mad as hell and getting madder the longer Daryl ignores her. The anger is easier to hold onto than the sadness, and she grips it like a lifeline. By nightfall, they are on the highway dodging walkers and clearing cars. The moon is full, but thick black clouds keep floating across its surface and blocking its light. Beth hears a deep rumble, thinks it must be a roll of thunder, until Daryl grabs her arm and hurls her toward an abandoned car. He clears it quickly and lifts the trunk lid. Motions for Beth to crawl in and follows behind her. The lid is rusted and makes a terrible scraping noise when Daryl pulls it down over their heads. It won't close all the way, so he secures it with the rag he keeps in his back pocket. A herd emerges from the woods just as the sky opens up and rain beats down on the car. 

The storm has the herd in a frenzy. The walkers slam into each other blindly. Seem to piss each other off when they do. Their growls crescendo to a deafening roar. A few of the fresher walkers catch their scent. Break off from the heard and surround the car. The lid bounces and screeches and the car rocks from both the walkers and the wind.

It's hot as hell fire in the trunk and the air is stale. Stinks like sweat and rot. Beth is folded in the corner, knees bent to her chin, knife drawn and at the ready. Daryl takes up considerably more space. He sits crossways in his two-thirds of the trunk, twisted at his middle to keep his crossbow pointed and aimed through the narrow opening in the trunk. His arms are taunt under the weight of it, but he never moves. Beth wonders if he's even breathing. The soles of his boots have been pressing into her hip for hours now. It hurts, and it pisses her off. She wants to grab his feet and shove them to the back of the trunk. Instead, she presses against them. Gives him a nudge to let him know she doesn't appreciate it. From the corner of her eye, she sees Daryl glance her way, but he doesn't move. That pisses her off even more. She's fidgety, and she needs to pee. Itches in places she can’t possibly reach. Wonders if she might be claustrophobic. Her eyes dart from her third of the trunk to the middle, to Daryl, to the opposite side and back. Over and over again on an endless loop.

Eventually the rain slows and comes to a sudden stop. The walkers settle down and move on. Beth relaxes a little but remains trapped in her corner. The humidity in the trunk is stifling. She needs to move. Needs to breathe, but it's getting harder and harder to fill her lungs. Her heart is racing, and her head is swimming. She has the fleeting, rational thought she might be having a panic attack but who can be rational suffocating in a corner. Fight-or-flight kicks in, and Beth opts for flight. If she doesn't get out now, she's either gonna' pass out or spontaneously combust. Either way, she is done with this bullshit. She drops her knife at her side. Swipes the back of her hand across her brow and reaches for the rag. She doesn't even glance at Daryl. In her head, she dares him to try and stop her. Her hands are shaking, and she can't get the knot to budge. Daryl tries to help, but Beth smacks his hands away. The knot finally releases and Beth hurls herself from the trunk. She hightails it to the front of the car and gags. Her eyes water from the retching, and her chest burns, but she doesn’t pass out. Score one for Beth.

Daryl unfolds himself from the trunk and stomps the ground trying and force the blood to circulate through his legs and feet. He keeps one ear trained on Beth while he scavenges the car for supplies. He finds a garbage bag and stuffs it with hubcaps. Beth emerges with a broken mirror and broken glass. "For starting a fire," she snips and drops them in the bag.

They find three empty water bottles, and a tarp to add to their stash. Daryl picks up his bow and takes a second to look at Beth. Really look at her, head to toe. She waits for his assessment with an "I dare you" stare even though she is screaming on the inside for him to speak. To say something… anything. But he doesn’t. He simply turns and walks on ahead. She knows he's in shock. Knows his silence stems from anger and sadness. She is willing to give him whatever he needs to help him process, but she isn't a mind reader. And right now, his silence is killing her.

Daryl knows he's being an ass. But he's not sure how to stop. He can't wrap his head around the way he feels. It's almost like he doesn’t have the energy to feel anything at all. He's going through the motions with no real direction or purpose outside of keeping Beth alive. He's afraid he'll lash out at her. Say something he can't take back. So, he sticks with his decision to stay quiet and keep his distance. 

They've been walking in silence for hours when Beth says she is hungry. Daryl breaks from the road and disappears into the woods leaving Beth alone on the road. She stomps her foot and silently screams in frustration. When she breaks through the trees, Daryl is waiting for her. "Deer tracks," he mumbles. "Follow 'em to a water source."

Beth nods. It ain't much, but at least he's talking. "Sounds good," she whispers, and tries to smile. 

She walks as silently as she can behind him, amazed at how he makes no sound at all. He stops every now and again and studies things Beth can't see. He eventually loses the deer's trail but spots a squirrel scurrying across a low branch. The bolt passes just shy of its mark and the lucky little bastard scampers away. He can hear a creek running not too far off in the distance. He searches for any anomalies and spots a path through the trees. It's overgrown and nearly obscured, even to his trained eye, but it's there. He taps Beth's arm and heads in that direction. They walk another hundred yards or so, and the ground starts to soften beneath their boots.

The creek water is clean and clear. They both fall to their knees and cup handfuls to their mouths. Beth fills the water bottles while Daryl looks for tracks. He has his back to her, one hand on his hip, and he's looking up at the trees. Beth slides her hand beneath his bicep and leans her head against his shoulder. "What now?"

Daryl takes a deep breath and relaxes into her. Flicks his wrist toward another dampened patch of grass. "See where that trail takes us. It ain't been used in a long time neither… Keep huntin'. Get somethin' in our bellies."

Beth steps ahead of him and heads toward the trees. She can't exactly spot the trail he is talking about, but she moves in the general wrist-flick direction he gave her. Sees four trees, evenly spaced, and veers toward the two on the left. A second later, there is a familiar set of hands on her shoulders shifting her to the right.

The trail is covered and packed in dead leaves that crunch under their feet. They've been on the trail for less than ten minutes when Daryl's arm shoots out and stops Beth in her tracks. She freezes, eyes wide, and slowly reaches for her knife. She is searching the trees for an unseen enemy when she feels Daryl's hand close over hers. He eases the knife from her grip and raises it, slow and steady, over his head. Flings it forward, lighting fast, and exhales a heavy breath. That’s when Beth sees it. A huge snake is writhing wildly on the ground in front of them. She never would have seen it coiled in the leaves. Daryl has it pinned to the ground with her knife, just behind its head. Its mouth is disjointed and spread impossibly wide, hissing and spitting desperately. Five-inch fangs are jetted out and dripping with thick honey-colored venom. Daryl pulls out his knife and squats next to the snake. Beth wants to tell him to be careful, but she is paralyzed with fear. She watches him slice the snakes head clean off and kick it to the side. She shutters from head to toe, but she can't pull her eyes from the decapitated snake as it continues to flop like a fish out of water. Daryl stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans. "Timber Rattler," he surmises with not even a hint of fear in his voice. "Good sized one too." 

He nearly laughs when he glances at Beth. She has the most disgusted look on her face, and she's noddin' at him like she agrees with him, one hundred percent.

Daryl waits for it to quit floppin' before he retrieves Beth's knife. Scoops up the snake and throws it over his shoulder. They find a clear spot at the top of a hill and stop to build a small cooking fire. Beth uses the broken mirror and the piece of glass from the car to get the fire going while Daryl skins their four-foot friend. Daryl chops it into pieces and slides them on skewers to rotate over the fire. When the first skewer is fully cooked, he hands it to Beth. "Just eat the meat. Don't bite all the way through. Insides taste like shit." 

"Right," she says. and takes the proffered snake kabob. "Not a problem".

They eat in silence. Beth keeps thinking about chicken while she chews the tough muscle of the rattler. It helps it go down a little easier. Daryl, on the other hand, dives in like it's Sunday dinner.

Further down the path, they stumble up on a rundown shack. It's falling apart on the outside and the inside is littered with trash. It smells like pee and smoke. Beth spots a hot pink ashtray shaped like a bra. She picks it up and holds it out for Daryl to see. "Yeah?" he says, defensively. "My old man had one just like it." 

He is daring her to say something about it, maybe crack a redneck joke. But Beth refuses to take the bait. She drops the ashtray and tells him she saw a shed out back. She's gonna' go take a look. Daryl knows exactly what she's gonna' find in that shed. He grew up in a place just like this. He follows her out, just in case one of the assholes who lived here locked himself up with the moonshine. There are no walkers, but sure as shit, the first thing they see is a crate full of shine. Daryl leaves it where he finds it, but Beth picks up the crate and carries it inside. 

"What the hell you bringin' that in for?"

"To drink," she sasses.

"That's moonshine, girl. You don't need ta' be drinkin' that shit."

Beth thought it was water. Somebody's redneck version of bottled water. Never even crossed her mind it might be moonshine. But that's a mistake Daryl _never_ needs to know about. "You my chaperone now, Mr. Dixon?" This time her sass is laced with venom. She's embarrassed by her naiveté, and he's back to irritating the fire out of her again. The combination makes her a little mean.

Daryl usually likes it when she calls him Mr. Dixon. It's part of their thing. But not this time. Not when she's throwing it at him like a weapon. He jerks the crate out of her hands and tosses it on the kitchen table. When he turns back around, Beth is frowning, and she has the pad of her thumb in her mouth. When she pulls it out, she squeezes on it, and Daryl sees fresh blood ooze from a cut. 

"Shit, Beth," he says and reaches for her hand.

Beth pulls away before he can reach her. Wipes it on her jeans and declares she is fine. She walks around him and opens one of the moonshine jars. She's never had alcohol before. Her daddy forbade it. More than that, she just never wanted it. Her friends in high school drank nearly every weekend. She liked to hang out and play along, but the idea of being out of control never appealed to her. But now… now she thinks she doesn't want to die without a taste. She knows Daryl is watching her. Figures he has an opinion, but she'll be danged if she gives him an invitation to share that opinion. The sharp smell of the moonshine nearly changes her mind, but that fierce stubborn streak of hers will not let her relent. She takes a swig and thinks maybe she should have started with a sip when fire scorches her throat. Burns a trail down the inside of her chest. She tries to hold back the cough, but that just makes it worse. 

"What the hell you tryin' to prove, Beth?" 

"I ain't tryin' to prove nothin'," she says through a choked cough. "Just never had moonshine before."

"You ever had _any_ kind a' drink, girl?" 

Now he's the one being mean. Judgmental and prickly, and Beth has had just about enough.

"What does it matter," she says curtly.

"You ever been drunk before?" The way he says it, she knows he's making fun of her, but it's far less than good natured.

Beth is too tired to fight so she asks him if he wants some moonshine. Tries to lighten the mood.

Daryl shakes his head. "Nah, somebody's gotta' stay sharp. Protect your ass."

He regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth. Beth looks stricken.

"That's what you think a' me," she asks. "You think I need protectin'? News flash, asshole. I can take care of myself."

Beth storms past him, and he makes a grab for her. He wants to apologize. Wants to stop her from leaving. He doesn't mean to hit her hand and splash moonshine all over her shirt.

She jumps back, arms open wide, and screams at him. "Damn it, Daryl!" Her anger is fueled by a perfect storm of fear, frustration, lack of sleep, and sadness. Mostly she feels betrayed and helpless. She doesn’t understand why Daryl has chosen to shut her out. Why the bad guys sometimes win. Why her family had to be split up and scattered. She flings the mason jar across the room and heads toward the back of the shack. Daryl flinches when the bedroom door slams.

He picks up one of the jars from the crate, bounces it around in his hand, and hurls it into the wall. He enjoys watching it shatter into a million pieces. Grabs another one and does it again. Grabs a third but opens this one instead and takes a big swig. It burns going down, like liquid fire, and he likes the way it feels. He takes another gulp. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and sends the jar flying across the room. He lets the anger take a breath. Feels it push through the numbness. He grabs another jar and takes another drink. 

They've been making a lot of racket. He isn't surprised when he hears a familiar growl out back. Grabs his crossbow and darts out the door. Daryl meets the walker as it stumbles around the back of the house. It pisses him off. What the hell right does this asshole have to come back to life. To take someone else from this earth. His anger boils over. Threatens to burn him up. He releases a bolt and nails the undead creature to the tree. Fires another one into its other shoulder. 

Beth appears at his side as a third bolt sails into the walker. She's wearing a yellow t-shirt tied in a knot at her hip. It nearly swallows her petite frame. "Daryl, what the hell?"

"What?" he snaps

"Kill it already. What are you doin'?"

"Nah, we're gonna' have some fun with this one. It’s a party, right!"

"Killin' isn't supposed to be fun!" Beth draws her knife and stabs the walker in the head.

She spins and charges back to Daryl. "You're gonna' talk to me, Daryl Dixon. Your gonna' tell me what's goin' on in that head of yours."

"What do ya' want me say? Huh?" He lunges into her space. Bends to meet her at eye level, but Beth holds her ground. "Want me ta' talk about my feelings and shit?"

He dances back from her. Bites and runs, but Beth gives chase. She's on her toes. In his face. "I want you to stop actin' like none of what we went through matters. Like none of the people we lost meant anythin' to you. It's bullshit!" She hates the way her voice cracks around her tears. Hates that she cries when she's mad.

"That what you think?"

"That’s what I know," she half whispers. It hurts her to say it. Knows it isn’t true, but she's tired of his bullshit. Thinks she can bait him into coming clean.

"You don't know nothin'." He's shifting his weight back and forth. A slow, focused repetition. It centers his anger. Helps him keep the impending explosion somewhat in check. 

"I know you’re afraid," she challenges.

He lunges at her again. Points his finger in her face. "I ain't afraid a' nothin'," he hisses. They circle each other like two prize fighters.

"You're a terrible liar. Everybody we love is gone. Scattered or dead. God forbid you let yourself keep carin' about me. I ain't Maggie or Michonne or Carol. You think I might die and then what?"

Daryl grabs her face with both hands. His fingers are rough and calloused, but his grip is light. Even as messed up as he is right now, he would never hurt her. "Don't say that. You hear me? Don't you ever talk about dyin'. I couldn't take it, Beth…" 

They stare at each other. Fall into rhythm, both too worked up to stand still. His lip starts to quiver and his eyes shimmer. Shift from gray to blue behind unshed tears.

"It could happen, Daryl, but it doesn't mean…"

"Damn it, Beth," he yells and spits. Turns his back to her.

"Daryl," she says and chases after him again. Steps around him and makes him face her. "Don't push me away. It won’t make it hurt any less."

His shoulders slump, and he tucks his chin to his chest. "It's too hard," he mumbles. Swipes at a rogue tear with the back of his hand. Charges past her.

Beth spins. Focuses on the angel wings that seem to flap with his back and forth movements. She gives him his space. Let's him work through what he needs to say. 

"Governor rolled right up to our gates. Now everybody we cared about's gone. Lil' Asskicker, Maggie, Rick, Merle… I shoulda' kept lookin'. I shoulda' took care of those bodies too. Maybe if I had, your dad… Shit, Beth. That's on me," he says with so much self-loathing it nearly breaks her heart.

She whispers his name and reaches for his arm. Daryl jerks away and peeks at her over his shoulder. "It coulda' been you, you know… When I saw you on your knees in front a' the governor…" His voice cracks, and he can't hardly draw in air. Shakes his head to force the vile pictures of Beth and what could have been, out of his brain. "I ain't never felt like that Beth… I don't know what ta' do now…"

Beth throws herself into his back. Wraps her arms around his waist and hangs on tight. Presses her cheek against the wings that have faded with all they've been through. Eventually, his sobs subside, and Daryl lifts his arm, turns, and fits Beth to his chest. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

Beth shakes her head. No apologies necessary. "I'm an asshole, Beth. I warned ya'."

Beth huffs a humorless laugh. Leans back and waits for him to look at her. His eyes keep bouncing between her and anything but her. Beth murmurs his name. It drags against her dry throat. But it pulls him back to her. "Just don't shut me out, okay? We're partners."

Daryl nods. Runs his hand the length of her ponytail. "Got any more moonshine? I could use a drink."

Beth does laugh at that. Gives him the first real smile he's seen in days. Makes his heart feel a little lighter.

"Yeah, I think we've got a few jars left. I found you a flannel too. There were two of 'em in the closet."

They're swaying back and forth. Trying to find their footing. Re-establish their familiar rhythm. "That where you found that t-shirt?" He must have noticed it when she first came outside because she's pressed up against him now. She steps back and holds the corners out so they can both look at it closer. 

"You like it?" she asks and bats her eyelashes dramatically. There's a fat, fluffy squirrel with big round eyes and over-stuffed cheeks sitting square in the middle of her chest. Underneath, it says, "It's what's for dinner". 

Daryl snorts at her shirt _and_ at her suggestive behavior. Beth even catches a glimpse of teeth when he smiles. She wrinkles her nose playfully and smiles back. They are both exhausted from the physical and emotional strain of the last couple of days, but they have work to do. Another day to make it through. They check the perimeter and make sure all the noise didn't attract walkers or people. Secure entry points as best they can with what they have. And string a makeshift alarm with supplies they scavenged from the car and the shack.

Dusk is setting in, bringing with it a cool breeze and a welcome relief from the thick humidity. They settle on the porch with two jars of moonshine, a can of pork 'n beans they found in the shed, left over rattle snake, and a rag full of berries Beth collected from the brush behind the house.

As the night wears on and the moonshine jars deplete, Daryl finds himself sitting across from a buzzed Beth on the back porch. She's wearing a new smile. One he's never seen before. In his head he dubs it the Tipsy Beth smile. It's sweet and a little mischievous. He likes it, thank you very much. 

"You're a happy drunk," he says with a half tipsy smile of his own. Beth's smile grows, and she blinks at him lazily.

The humidity colludes with the moonshine to slow everything down. Cicada song is a balm to their frayed nerves. The relative peace drives them into their own thoughts until Beth pipes up. Tells him she misses Maggie and her big brother Shawn. Misses Maggie bossin' her around and Shawn being overprotective. Daryl says Shawn wouldn’t have let him get within two feet of her. Beth rolls her eyes and giggles. "Nah. He'd a' come around. He would've liked you."

She talks about picnics and babies and her daddy. Talks about how she wishes Hershel could have been a grandpa. Wishes he could have died quietly, at a really old age, surrounded by the people he loved. She pauses. Gets lost in her head thinking about what could have been. What should have been. Says something about being unbelievably stupid for wanting those things.

Daryl tells her she ain't stupid. Says that's the way it's supposed to be. He surprises her when he adds, "I want those things too."

Beth's surprised "oh" morphs into the sweetest smile. It pierces Daryl's heart, and he looks away shyly.

"Just used to nothin' but ugly. Then you came along, and everythin' changed," he explains. "Growin' up the way I did, in a place like this… I didn't know people like you existed… This kinda' ugly makes ya' mean."

"You're not mean," she says. Draws her brows together in a deep frown. Seems genuinely offended that he would call himself that. "You changed, Daryl. You got away from all that. You're kind and compassionate. You're _good_ ," she declares. Emphasizes the word "good" like it means so much more than just the opposite of bad. "I love you, Daryl. I love you with all my heart."

"Still?" he asks. Beth nods, and smiles that patient smile of hers. It reminds him of her dad. Hershel used to smile like that when the rest of them caught up to what he already knew to be right. Daryl starts chewing on the inside of his lip. Looks her over like he's making sure she is real. 

"Tell me something good, Daryl."

He bounces his thumb on his knee and tries not to smile. "Love you too, girl."

Beth's smile stretches wide across her face. She taps the bottom of his boots with her boot clad toes.

"Come 'ere," he says, and it sends a shiver up Beth's spine. She crawls to him, and he pulls her across his lap. Settles his hands on her hips. "I wish you didn't have ta' see all this ugly. Wish we coulda' met like in your story. Run off to Nashville together. Raise all them kids you were talkin' about."

Daryl's sad, half-smile squeezes Beth's heart. She draws in a shaky breath. Fights to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill yet again. "I wish places like this didn't exist for anybody. Not then, not now," she says.

Daryl shrugs. "It wasn't all bad. Didn't get ugly 'til after my mom died." Beth lifts her eyebrows, silently inviting him to tell her more. "She was a happy drunk, like you. Died when I was twelve. She passed out on the couch with a cigarette in her mouth. Damn thing lit up like a box of fireworks. Burned the whole house down… Merle was already gone overseas in the Army. After that it was just me and my old man…" He shrugs again. "You know the rest."

Beth brushes the hair out of his eyes. Leans down and places a tender kiss on his lips. "Was there anyone you could go to? To get away from him?"

"Yeah, there was this one old lady down the street. Ms. Atwater. I used to mow her lawn for her. Drive her to the store 'fore I could even see over the steerin' wheel. Ever' day on my way home from school, she'd holler at me from the front porch. Call me up there and give me an orange soda. Tell me what we were having for supper that night. She said cookin' for two was easier than cookin' for one. Prolly' woulda' starved ta' death without her… I got lost in the woods a few months after my mom died. Was gone ten days. When I finally made it back home, I went to see her. I wanted ta' tell her I was sorry for bein' gone sa' long. When I told her what happened, she hugged me and cried. I guess she'd been down to the house lookin' for me, and my old man told her he figured I'd run away. She even called the police, but they agreed with my dad…"

"I'm glad you had Ms. Atwater. She sounds like good people," Beth says sincerely.

"Yeah, she was… When I was fourteen, the ol' man lost another job. Came home drunk. Mad as hell. Caught me in the kitchen gettin' a coke out 'a the fridge. Set him off. That’s when I got most 'a them scars I showed ya'. I 'member layin' there in the floor, watchin' the cockroaches carry off all the crumbs and shit from under the cabinets. I wasn't gonna' move 'til I knew for sure he passed out. When he finally did, I half crawled to Ms. Atwater's. She wanted ta' take me to the hospital, but I wouldn't let her. Laid on her couch, face down, for a week while she took care of my back. Prolly' would 'a died then too if it weren't for her…"

Beth knows Ms. Atwater has long since been gone, but she feels like she owes it to Daryl's angel of mercy to ask. "What happened to her?"

"She died when I was seventeen," he says. Then he smiles. It's a sad, fleeting uptick of his lip… "When I graduated high school, she gave me an old pocket watch that belonged to her husband. Made us a steak dinner to celebrate… She told me I had a purpose. Told me not to let where I come from keep me from seein' that purpose. I thought she'd prolly' lost her mind or somethin'. A couple of weeks later, I found her in her bed. Died in her sleep. She didn't have no family, so I made a deal with the funeral home. Did some work for 'em in exchange for takin' care of her. Had her cremated"

"What did you do with her ashes?"

"Spread 'em up in Blue Ridge. She used to live there until her husband died. He was a coal miner. Died real young in a mining accident. She loved the mountains. Always talkin' about 'em."

"Daryl," she whispers and cups both his cheeks. "You have a beautiful heart. It's what I love most about you… And Ms. Atwater was right, you do have a purpose. You kept our family safe and fed. You made Rick a better leader. Stepped up when he couldn't do it anymore. You're the reason my sweet Judith made it through those first few weeks. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you, Daryl. I don't know what I would've done."

"You da' found a way. You're fierce. Strongest person I know."

"No, not without you. You helped me change… Either way, you're stuck with me now, Mr. Dixon." She laughs when he rolls his eyes. Tucks her lip between her teeth. "You gotta' let all this go, Babe. Forget where you came from. Stay who you are." 

"Maybe I just need ya' to remind me ever' now and then." 

Beth is straddling his thighs. Her face is close enough for him to see the individual shades of blue in her eyes. Daryl recognizes it, the minute the idea hits her. Her eyes light up, open wide, and that mischievous grin of hers shows up. "We should burn it down."

It takes him a second to get what she is suggesting. Beth waits for him to catch up. Sits there staring at him with a big goofy grin. Daryl narrows his eyes, thinks it over, and comes to a decision. He pops her on the ass and stands her up. Hops to his feet and juts his chin in agreement, "we're gonna' need more moonshine."

They paint the inside of the shack with alcohol, Beth giggling the whole time. Daryl douses two rags and shoves them into empty jars. When the last of the moonshine is gone, they grab whatever they think they can use and head outside. Daryl hands her one of the Molotov cocktails and flicks his wrist toward the shed. He lights it, and Beth lets it fly with a grunt. Squeals when the whole thing lights up. Daryl gives her a crooked smile and tosses his Molotov at the other end of the shack. He's watching it burn, letting go of his past, when he feels a push against his arm. Beth is standing there with her finger in the air, flipping off his demons. Telling him to do the same. He obliges, gladly. Sends all of it straight to hell with one finger raised high. 

They stay until the walls start to cave and the heat is almost too much to bear. Daryl takes her hand and pulls her with him. Laces their fingers together and draws her in close. He saw a deer stand not too far from here. It's too high in the trees to be useful for hunting. He figures the assholes that owned the shack used it as a lookout. Figures moonshine ain't the only thing they were selling. He would have missed it if he hadn't seen the rope ladder hanging down against the tree base. They can spend the night there and keep heading north in the morning. He thinks about Ms. Atwater. Knows she was right. He does have a purpose… Keep Beth safe. Find their family. Build a new life with Beth.

They climb the ladder to the deer stand and Daryl pulls it up with them. They'll be safe up here tonight from people and from walkers. No way anybody could reach the lowest branch of the ancient oak. He and Beth curl up together on an old, thin blanket they took from the shack. He kisses her tenderly. Pours all his love and thanks into one long and languid kiss. Beth hums and smiles when he pulls back, but her eyes refuse to open, and she drifts off to sleep in his arms. They haven't slept in days, and Daryl doesn't remember ever being this tired. But before he closes his eyes, he eases his arm out from underneath her, props his head on his palm, and takes a minute to watch her sleep. He feels lighter than he has in years, even though his heart still hurts like hell from the loss of their family. He decides he's gonna' try to have a little faith. Like Beth said, maybe their family ain't dead. Maybe they're out there looking for each other, just like him and Beth. 

He runs his hand through the end of her ponytail. Figures he's the luckiest asshole on the planet. His girl is a damn miracle. She thinks he saved _her_ for cryin' out loud. Little does she know, he woulda' laid down and died a long time ago if not for her. He scoots down next to her. Pillows his head on his bicep and pulls her to him with a hand around her waist. Beth rolls to her side in her sleep and takes that hand with her. Traps it between hers and tucks it up under her chin. Daryl curls around her like a spoon. Feels the weight of the last few days tug at his eyelids.

As he drifts off to sleep, he catches himself prayin' again, for the second time in his life. He thanks God for Beth, and Ms. Atwater too. He asks God to help him keep Beth safe. Maybe help 'em find their family too. He has one more favor to ask. Thinks he's prolly' pushin' his luck with this one, but maybe God owes him a little somethin' for the shitty upbringing he saddled him with. Or maybe He already made up for that when He gave him Beth. Who the hell knows, but Daryl decides there's no harm in askin'. He wants a safe place to make a life with Beth. A place where they can live and work and build a community with their family. Some place clean and pretty with the kind of house he thinks Beth deserves. He knows he's talkin' shit. Blames his crazy on the exhaustion. Places like that don't exist no more. But just in case they do, he asks God to help 'em find their family and then lead 'em there so they can do more than just survive in this suck ass world… Thanks and Amen. 


	12. We'll Be Good

Beth and Daryl making their way through the woods. This is actually the first half of the chapter. #12 was getting a little long. Will post the second half in a few days.

WARNING: This chpt is mature for sexual content aka Bethyl Goodness!

Daryl hands Beth his crossbow and tells her she needs to learn to shoot it just in case something happens to him. Beth tells him "no". Tells him it would be useless in her hands. "I don't even have the strength to load it, or string it, or whatever you call it. It's all I can do to hang on to it while you take a pee break. Just keep teachin' me how to survive out here. Make sure you stay alive so you can hold on to it yourself."

Daryl grumbles something unintelligible and Beth kisses him on the cheek. He flicks his wrist and lightly shoves her shoulder. Smiles when she turns around and leads the way. She asked him to teach her how to track. Asked him how he knows where to go and what to look for. "Signs are there,' he says. "Just gotta' know how to read 'em."

She is getting pretty good at discriminating one set of tracks from another. Moves through the trees as quietly as he does. She can find her way through the woods and back to camp without his help now, although they never go anywhere without each other. She learns quickly how to navigate the woods using nature's cues and clues. Pays attention to every detail. They are tracking a deer, Beth in the lead, when they pass a tent tucked back behind a huge rotting log. Daryl scoots around her and aims his bow. Nods. Beth unzips the tent and a swarm of flies take flight. She stumbles backward coughing and swatting at the air. Daryl sticks his head in the tent to see if there are any threats beyond the flies. Inside he finds two dead bodies, both female. One is slumped to the side. The other is lying across the first. Each has a single gunshot wound to the head. Daryl grabs the gun and zips the tent. Spins Beth and shoos her back to the trail they were following. She doesn't need to see the carnage. He can at least protect her from that.

They walk a little further and the deer tracks disappear. Beth looks around and sees a new set of tracks. They form a heavy zig-zag pattern in the soft forest floor. "It's a walker," she says, and Daryl hums his affirmation. Beth smiles. Says, "I'm getting' good at this, Mr. Dixon. Soon I won't need you at all." The words no more leave her mouth before her eyes go wide and the smile slides from her face. She throws her arms around Daryl's neck and squeezes him to her. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

"Hey," he says tenderly. "Beth… Hey, look at me."

He pulls her arms from around his neck and hangs on to her wrists. "It's okay. I knew what ya' meant. I'm glad you’re learnin' to take care 'a yourself. Just don't forget, we're better together a'ight?." Beth nods, and a few wayward tears make a run for it down her cheeks. She looks so pitiful. It nearly breaks his heart. "Beth, sweetheart, its okay." He pulls her against his chest, and she wraps her arms around his middle. They stand there for a quiet minute while Beth pulls herself together. Daryl pats her on the back and tells her they need to get moving. Kisses her on the forehead and pulls her along next to him. 

The walker tracks veer off into a thick tangle of ground cover. "Do we follow it" Beth asks. "Keep trackin'?" They both look when they hear the snapping and growling start. It's close. A single walker by the sound of it, but there is no movement that either one of them can see. Daryl figures it must be trapped close by. He eases past the point where the tracks make the turn. Leans in to see if he can see it. A rotting hand swipes at his boot but doesn't move any closer. Daryl uses his bow to move the dead leaves and spread the weeds. This one has been here a while. There isn’t much skin left over the exposed bones of the walker's skull. Daryl smashes it with his boot like it's no more than a crunch bug. The bones crumble and nearly turn to ash without the usual spray of walker goo.

They walk on ahead and look for a place to camp. Find a natural alcove in the side of a small hill. It's big enough for Daryl to lean back and stretch his legs out. Beth starts a small cooking fire a few yards outside of the alcove and heats up the leftover rabbit from lunch. They top it off with the last of the berries Beth collected yesterday. After dinner, Daryl lays back on the grass and closes his eyes. Tells Beth to sing somethin'. 

"I can hear you smilin'," he grouses. He's right. Beth is sitting cross legged at his hip grinnin' at his request.

"I thought my singin' annoyed you."

Daryl's eyes pop open, and he frowns at her. "Why you think that?"

"I don't know. I just… My singin's not for everyone."

"You're crazy, girl. Your singin's one of my favorite things… besides, ain't no jukebox so…" He throws his forearm over his eyes and tries to keep from smiling. 

Beth hums a little intro and starts singing a song that Daryl doesn't recognize.

It's unclear now what we intend

We're alone in our own world

You don't wanna' be my boyfriend

And I don't wanna' be your girl

And that, that's a relief

We'll drink up our grief

And pine for summer

And we'll buy beer to shotgun

And we'll lay in the lawn

And we'll be good

Now I'm laughing at my boredom

At my string of failed attempts

Because you think that it's important

And I welcome the sentiment

And we talk on the phone at night

Until it's daylight

And I feel clever

And I hear the slow in your speech

Yeah, you're half asleep

Say goodnight

Now I've got friendships to mend

I'm selfishly dispossessed

You don't wanna' be my boyfriend

And that's probably for the best

Because that, that gets messy

And you will hurt me

Or I'll disappear

So we will drink beer all day

And our guards will give way

And we'll be good

Beth finishes her song and lays her head on Daryl's stomach. "Never heard that before. Pretty."

"You liked it?"

"Yeah. It's good."

Beth pulls his hand from where it rests across her middle and starts playing with his fingers. "I wrote it… after you climbed my treehouse. I knew I liked you. You were real, you know? Strong and kind." Daryl is peeking at her from beneath his forearm. "Cute too," she says shyly.

"Pfff"

"When I wrote it, I couldn't imagine you'd ever see me as anything more than just another dead girl… But I hoped."

"Hey," he says softly and laces their fingers together, "tell me somethin' good."

Beth drops his hand and rolls to her belly. Pushes up on her knees and hovers over him, face to face. "I love you, Daryl Dixon." She leans down and places a tender kiss on his lips. Pulls back and nips at his lower lip playfully. Daryl growls and rolls her to her back. Pushes white-blond wisps of hair back from her face. Tells her he loves her too. Then kisses her soundly. They part, nearly panting and Beth sighs. They haven’t been together since that one night at the prison. Beth can still feel his hands here, there, and everywhere when she thinks about it. Every second is etched in her memory. She longs for a safe place to stay where they can kiss and touch and explore each. Drift off to sleep together without the worry of walkers or human predators sneaking up on them in the night. 

Daryl pops up from the ground and pulls Beth with him. "We need to practice your bobbin' and weavin'," he says.

That's another thing she asked him to teach her… How to fight. Daryl said, "Nah. It ain't about fightin'. You need to learn how to protect yourself… How to escape." 

He's teaching her to use her speed and her weight to maneuver around a threat, a human threat. Daryl is fully aware of what could happen to Beth if the wrong kind of guy got ahold of her... There are things worse than death. It makes him sick to think about it.

She's getting better at dodging his attacks. "Bend your knees. Stay on your toes. Keep movin'," he says. He lunges at her, and she bonces to the side. Spins to face him, and readies for another attack.

"No, Beth!" he says, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. "Don't turn back to fight. You run! Run like hell and get away."

"But, what if there's more than one of 'em? And, and… you're fightin' the rest of 'em? I can't just run away, Daryl. I'm not gonna' leave you! You said yourself we're better together…"

"We are, but I ain't worth you getting' killed over, Beth. You gotta'…"

"Don't say that!" she interrupts. "Don't you ever say that again. You think it's okay that I get away and you die? What then? I can't make it on my own. I don't want too. I would much rather go down fightin' right by your side."

He gets it. He really does. He feels the same way. But it isn't just about her dying. He can handle the thought of her dying better than he can handle the thought of her being abused. He shakes his head. Tries to figure out how to make her understand.

"Daryl," she says gently and grasps his forearm. "I get that you think keeping me alive is a part of your purpose. But, things ain't like they used to be. The way the world is now… the way _we_ are now… it's all or nothin'. I _can’t_ survive without you, not on my own, and you don't _wanna'_ survive without me. Somebody comes along and tries to take us out, we go down together…"

"Beth, they're people in this world that see a beautiful gal like you, and killin' ain't their first thought. You have ta' run. I can take care 'a myself. You run, and I'll find ya'. I promise."

He is desperate for her to understand. For her to trust him and agree to run. Beth can see the fear in his eyes. Knows it comes from a place of love. She sighs and nods. Tells him she'll run. Promises to stick to the woods and leave a trail. Her acquiescence also comes from love. She kisses him softly. Smiles and tells him she wants to keep practicing.

They spar until they are both exhausted, especially Beth. She's getting physically stronger every day. Becoming mentally tough as well. When the sun starts to fade, the set up their alarm across the opening of the alcove. Two rows of metal junk, one knee high and one chest high will keep them safe tonight. Beth lays her head in Daryl's lap. Asks him how he learned to fight. He tells her about following Merle around when he was a kid. Says Merle was always lookin' for a fight. "He's ten years older 'an me so I was fightin' guys twice my size when I was a little kid. Got the shit beat out 'a me most 'a the time, but I learned how ta' dodge a punch. Keep 'em busy while Merle did his thing. Sometimes winning's more about not gettin' punched than it is about landin' one."

"Is that why you're always movin'?"

"What," he says and looks at her like she's crazy.

"You're always rockin' back and forth on your toes... especially when you're worried or, you know, worked up."

"Worked up?"

"Yeah, you know," she says again. "Like if someone you care about is being threatened or if you're fired up at somebody. When you're upset. You're always movin'."

Daryl squints at her. Hums his response. Wonders if she's right.

"Did you like fightin'?" she asks.

"Sometimes, I guess. Felt good to hit somethin' you know? Some asshole passin' judgement 'cause he thought he could. I used to get so mad. Run my mouth. I didn't usually start it, but I was happy ta' finish it."

"You're not like that anymore. I remember when you first got ta' the farm. You had that awful necklace of walker ears around your neck…"

"Damn, girl. Why you gotta' bring that up?"

Beth giggles and looks up at him. It's not so dark yet that she can't see the pink flush across his cheeks and ears. "You're embarrassed. That's proof right there you've changed."

"Thanks to you… and your dad, Rick. Everything we been through."

"Your brother seems like maybe he's changed too. I don't know him that well, but from what you've said and from what I've seen, it's like he's lost that chip he carried on his shoulder when he first showed up."

"Yeah… I ain't makin' an excuse, but when you grow up like we did, you just assume everybody's lookin' down on ya' cause of where ya' came from. New world changed everything. Guys like me and Merle sort 'a became useful. Found a purpose like you said."

"Yeah, but you coulda' used your powers for evil if you had that kind of heart. But you don't. You have a _good_ heart. I think maybe Merle does too under all that macho swag of his."

Daryl huffs at that. "Maybe Carol softened him up the way you did me."

"Maybe. But you were half way there before I ever got ahold of ya'."

Daryl doesn't know how to respond. Truth is he's proud of the man he has become. He still doesn't care much for people in general, but he can admit that it's good to be respected for who you are and what you have to offer as a person. He's thinking about the way Hershel smiled at Rick when he was on his knees in front of the governor. The way Hershel smiled at him when he gave his blessing for Daryl to be with Beth. Hershel thought of them as his sons. Glen too. Daryl misses his family more than he would like to admit. 

"Daryl?"

"Hmmm?"

"What were ya' thinkin' about?"

"What?"

"Just now, you disappeared."

Daryl looks at their hands. Beth is playing with his fingers again. She says she loves his hands. He wonders if she might actually be crazy for real when she says shit like that. If she is crazy, he's decided it's the right kind of crazy, and he'll take it. 

"I was just thinking 'bout your dad… Family. I liked the farm. Would 'a been a nice place ta' grow up."

"It was... It wasn't always easy. Lots of work to do, but I miss it. I miss my treehouse. When I was little, I wanted to live in a treehouse when I grew up. I'm thinkin' maybe I still do."

Daryl laughs a little at that. A picture of the two of them shackin' up in a house built between two big oak trees flashes through his mind. 

"What possessed you to climb my treehouse that night?" she asks out of the blue.

"I dunno'. I uh… Somethin' about ya', you know? I just put Dale down. Wasn't sure what ta' do with that. I guess I knew you'd make me feel better. Wouldn’t judge me."

"I'm glad you did. Climb my treehouse, I mean."

"Yeah, well I almost didn't…"

"Why? What do ya' mean?"

"I mean, you scared the hell out 'a me too. Never seen nobody smile sa' damn much. Thought ya' might be a little touched in the head."

"Daryl," she whines and slaps his hand. "That's not very nice," she says, but she can't help but smile.

"See, there you go again. Always smilin' and shit."

Her smile grows and she can't help but laugh. Now _her_ cheeks are pink, and she is shaking her head at his teasing. He's smiling too. Studying her face. Then his expression changes. He's still smiling, but his eyes land on hers and it's like he is trying to tell her something without having to say anything.

"What is it," she whispers.

Daryl keeps looking at her. Shrugs. Mumbles something akin to "I dunno'."

Beth shrugs back. "Don’t 'I dunno'," she says sweetly. "What is it?"

He's chewing on the inside of his lip now. Debating on whether or not to say what he's thinking out loud. Figures he should probably trust that same feeling that sent him up her treehouse so long ago. "Fell in love with ya' that night. You put your hand over my heart. Said you thought I was _good…_ inside, you know? Where it counts. Never figured you could love me back, though."

Beth crawls to his lap. Straddles his thighs so she can see his face. "I do love you, Daryl. You know that, right? You can feel it here?" she asks and lays her hand over his heart like she did all those nights ago.

Daryl leans up and answers her with an amatory kiss. Beth responds in kind. Opens her mouth and takes things deeper. Daryl follows her lead. Slips his hands under her shirt. The moon is a little more than three-quarters gone. The night is black, and Daryl is tempted to lay her down and show her exactly how much he loves her. His hands slide over her bare skin, and his knuckles scrape against her ribs. He kisses her thoroughly, and things escalate quickly. Daryl rides the wave. Plunders her mouth with his tongue. Beth matches his fervor and moans under her breath, careful to keep the noise to a minimum. Daryl's hands slide to her breasts and knead the plump mounds that fit perfectly in his palms. His thumbs slide lightly across her bra, and Beth's thighs clinch around his as heat rises from her center and explodes across her chest. She focuses solely on his touch. Lets everything else fade away. Her lips slip from his, and her head rolls back. Daryl sets to work on her neck, and she grabs his shoulders. Rocks against him. Sucks her lip between her teeth and gives herself over to him completely. Gone is the self-doubt she felt that first night with Daryl. The worry that she might disappoint him with her inadequate experience. Daryl is patient and kind and he makes her feel safe and confident and beautiful. The nerves that caused her to tremble beneath him, wide-eyed and ignorant of what lay ahead are now on fire with what she knows is coming. She wants to climb that sensuous mountain again. Wants to see the stars explode behind her eyes when she falls apart. Now that she knows the places she can go under his touch, the places she can take Daryl with her mouth and her hands, she is a woman on a mission. 

Daryl slips his thumbs under her bra and roughly circles the pebbled peaks of her breasts. Her hips jerk against his center instinctively. She tightens her grip on his shoulders and arches into him needing more. He watches her in awe. Drags his thumbs lightly across both breasts. She whispers his name. Presses down on his growing bulge. Pushes harder into his hands. He swipes his thumbs across her again, harder this time and she starts to rock, back and forth in rhythm with his ministrations. Beth growls and attacks his mouth. Daryl rolls her peaks between his fingers and Beth bites down on his lower lip. He scoops her ass and lays her down beneath him. The moss is cool against her back, but she barely notices. Daryl is as frantic as she is. He kisses her hard on the mouth and pulls away with a pop. Leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck and back up to her ear. Slows his roll and kisses her so ardently, Beth's toes actually curl inside her boots.

Daryl pulls his arm from beneath her and props his head on the heal of his hand. He rucks her t-shirt up to her chin and Beth yanks it the rest of the way off. She reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. Tosses it to the side, and tugs at the hem of his tee. Daryl slips it over his head. Has the fleeting thought that this probably isn’t the best idea, but no warning bells are ringing in his ears. He trusts his gut. Lets Beth pull him to her for a searing kiss. He slides his hand across her belly and down to her jeans. Pops the button and frees the zipper. Beth lifts her hips, and he slides her bottoms down just enough. He surprises her when he takes one of her pert breasts into his mouth. Beth's hands fly to his head and scrape across his scalp. The more he maneuvers, the more she arches and writhes beneath him. She hooks her foot around his calf and slides her boot up his leg. Presses into his heavy thigh nestled against her core.

He lets go of her breast and she whimpers but relaxes beneath him, breathless. Her heart is pounding. He knows it won't take much to push her over the edge. He slides lower. Scrapes the patch of scruff on his chin against her belly on the way down. Uses his mouth to tease her into a frenzy. When she finally peaks and shatters beneath him, he grabs a bottle of water and gently cleans her up. Pats her dry with one of the rags they took from the shack. He ghosts his fingers up and down her chest and belly soothing her frayed nerves. Goosebumps break out across her naked skin, but Beth assures him she isn't cold. She sits up and runs her hands across his chest. "Your turn," she whispers.

"No," he says and holds her wrists loosely in his hands, "not tonight. Gotta' stay awake. Take first watch."

"But, Daryl," she argues, "that's not fair. Let me take care of you."

He smiles at her and pushes her hair behind her ear. "Next time. Then you can take first watch."

"But," she starts

"I'm good, Beth. I promise. I like makin' ya' feel good. It's enough for now."

She looks at him and doesn't quite know what to say. He kisses her forehead. Tells her he loves her and slips his shirt back on. "Come on," he says and pats his leg. "Get some sleep. I'll wake ya' for your shift."

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart," he says with a wink. 

Beth falls asleep with her head in Daryl's lap. He usually volunteers to take first watch so she can sleep. Beth appreciates it. She can’t stay awake like he can after a long day of trekking through the woods. He is bad, though, about not waking her up soon enough for her to pull her fair share of watch hours. He usually waits until his eyes are too heavy to stay open a second longer before shaking her shoulder. 

They switch positions hours later like they always do. Beth sits up and Daryl pillows his head against her thighs. He always makes a dramatic play at squeezing her legs like he's fluffing a pillow. And Beth always giggles at his antics. He says something about being glad when she finally gets a little meat on her bones. He finally quits fidgeting and closes his eyes. Rumbles a contended hum when Beth runs her fingers through his hair and over his scalp like always. It lulls him to sleep almost immediately. It's the same every night. And Beth feels pretty damn lucky to be right where she is… counting the stars and listening to the rough snores of the man she loves.


	13. Not This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope Chpt 12 posted okay. The site was being glitchy when I added it.

The woods slope uphill and start to thin. Daryl figures they must be getting close to a town. They step through a wall of honeysuckle that Beth can't leave without tasting. She shows Daryl how strip the stem from the flower to get to the nectar. Plucks one and holds it up for him to taste. She giggles when he pops the whole thing in his mouth and chews it down. "Don't eat it, Daryl! You're supposed to suck the nectar off the stem."

"That right?" he says, but the way the words scrape across his throat, she gets the feeling they aren’t talking about honeysuckle anymore. Flashes of their night in the alcove streak across Beth's memory. She enjoys the flutter she gets in her belly every time she thinks about it.

Beth plucks a handful of honeysuckle blooms and they move through the bushes together. On the other side, they find themselves in a graveyard with weathered and sparsely placed headstones. They slow their pace and peruse the names and dates on the stones. Most of the residents have been gone for sixty years or more. One of the smaller, older stones reads 1860-1922. Beloved Husband, Father, and, Grandfather. Beth pauses in front of this one and cocks her head thoughtfully. Daryl gives her a minute to think about her dad and to gather her emotions before he tosses his arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Let's check out the house."

They climb the stairs to the blue and white Victorian home. The wrap around porch reminds Beth of the farm. To Daryl, the porch and all the windows make the house look like a nightmare to defend. The house itself is clean and well kept. Makes Daryl nervous. Beth walks past him and starts up the stairs, but he snags the back of her shirt and slows her down. "Easy… Somethin' don’t feel right."

It's enough for Beth. She trusts Daryl's instincts as much as she trusts anything left in this world. They climb the porch steps together, and Beth leans against the wall next to the front door. Daryl peaks in the window. Tries to get a lay out of the first floor before they go kicking in the door. The house is spotless like whoever lives there is immune to what is going on in the world. There is no movement from inside. No shadows. No sign of life. He turns the knob and the door creeks open. Crossbow at the ready, he takes a silent step across the threshold. He doesn’t even make a racket to see if any walkers appear. Damn place smells like lemons. No walker stench. No growls. No dust or dirt. 

"It's beautiful in here, " he hears Beth say. She scoots past him and moves off to the left through a wide and open, trimmed archway. She's standing in the middle of what must be the living room spinning in a slow, appreciative circle. The room is full of detailed trim. The interior walls are lined with shelves stuffed with books. The exterior walls are curved, painted blue to match the outside, and trimmed half way up with shiny white beadboard. Daryl makes his way over. The ceiling is open all the way to the roof. Domed at the top. Must be eighteen or twenty feet up. Decorative rope trim circles the perimeter of the dome. "Don’t you think it's beautiful," Beth asks, and Daryl remembers his talk with God from a last week. " _Some place clean and pretty…"_

"Come on," he beckons. This house gives him the creeps. He wants to scavenge what they can and hit the road. The sooner the better. 

Beth follows him into the kitchen. In the cabinets they find four large jars of peanut butter, 3 jars of grape jelly, 2 boxes of saltines, a 2-liter of Big-Spot Dr. Thunder, 6 bottles of water, and a bag of pork rinds. "Damn," Daryl says under his breath and pops the lid off one of the grape jellies.

"What is this place," Beth wonders out loud.

"I don’t know for sure, but I think we need to take what we can and get. I got a bad feelin', Beth." He scoops two fingers full of grape jelly and pops it in his mouth.

"Ewww," Beth says and wrinkles her nose. 

"What?"

She giggles and elbows his arm. "Let's look upstairs."

Daryl pulls the jars off the shelf and stuffs them in his pack. Beth watches him until he gets to the last jar of peanut butter. She taps his forearm and looks at him thoughtfully. "Maybe we should leave some for whoever lives here."

Daryl studies her for a second. Decides there is no use in arguing. Teases her a little, "you wanna' leave a thank you note too?"

Beth rolls her eyes and says, "that's a mighty fine idea, Mr. Dixon." Tells him she's proud of his manners. Appreciates the fact that her man is a real gentleman.

It's his turn to roll his eyes. He caps it off with another big scoop of jelly from the open jar. "Want me to leave this jar of jelly, too?"

"I think you can keep that one," she says and pulls an unopened jar from his backpack to set next to the peanut butter in the cupboard. She pushes him toward the kitchen door knowing full well she couldn’t actually budge him if he didn’t want to move. 

Upstairs they find a lightweight jacket for Daryl. Beth swears his body temperature runs 30 degrees hotter than a normal human being, but she remembers what he told her once about hating the f-ing cold, so she grabs the jacket and throws it over her arm. They find a new ergonomic hiking pack with a first aid kit attached, a hoodie that doesn’t swallow Beth whole, 2 feather light fleece throws, 4 extra pair of socks for each of them, a pair of black jeans that look just about right for Daryl, and a kids' long underwear set for Beth, a small rectangular throw pillow, and a travel pillow that wraps around your neck. It's quite a haul, and it makes Daryl even more suspicious. This place is starting to feel like a trap and it's making his skin crawl.

Beth looks through one more room and finds a couple of long-sleeved t-shirts and a pair of jeans that she can make work for herself. Daryl is chewing on his thumb. The longer they stay, the louder the alarms ring in his head. They are headed back downstairs when Daryl freezes near the bottom of the steps. He throws his arm over Beth's chest and holds her against the wall. Beth follows his line of site to one of the front windows. There is a man on the front porch. His back is to the house and his shaved head is turning left to right and back again like he is scanning the area. He isn't tall, but his shoulders are broad and his forearms rival Daryl's. He is wearing dark navy pants and a matching short-sleeved shirt, tucked-in and belted. Hanging from the belt is a holstered hand gun on one side and a radio on the other. 

Daryl pulls her with him down the last four steps, one at a time, quickly and silently. They turn the corner and duck down the back hall toward the kitchen. He can see two figures moving on the other side of the back door at the end of the hall. Daryl thinks about trying to make it across the house to the living room. There was a screened in porch off to the side that overlooks the graveyard. He doesn't remember seeing a door on the porch to the outside, but right now, it's looking like their best bet. He hears voices. Two voices. Both male. Coming from the back porch. The door is solid on the bottom half and decorative glass on the top. The glass is rain beveled and meant to preserve privacy so it's difficult to garner any details about the two men, but it looks like they are dressed exactly like the man on the front porch. From where he and Beth are squatted down between the island and the kitchen sink, Daryl can make out an emblem or a shield over the breast pocket. He has the fleeting thought that this reminds him of all the times he and Merle hid from the cops when Merle did something stupid and drug Daryl smack dab in the middle of it.

One of the men is smoking. It's getting dark outside, a little past dusk. Daryl can see the end of the cigarette light up with each draw. He looks at Beth and whispers, "I'm gonna' get closer. You go to the living room. Get out that way."

"No. Daryl, I'm not leaving you."

"I'll meet you on the other side of the honeysuckle. Now, go."

"Daryl!" she shout-whispers.

"Go, Beth. There's no time."

Everything inside of her is screaming for her to stay with Daryl. Splitting up is a terrible idea. She knows it in her heart. But she trusts Daryl, and she knows he must have a plan. So, she goes. She slips around the island and across the kitchen. Makes her way down the side hall and ends up in the back of the living room.

Daryl eases out of the backpack and duck walks down the hall toward the door. He can hear the men clearly now from the other side. "Hey, Licari, any movement? Over…"

A voice answers back from inside the radio. "Negative. They're still upstairs. Over…"

"10-4. Open the gate and lead the herd to the front. Lamson's gonna' cover the back. I'll get the graveyard…"

"10-4…" 

"Oh, and Licari, when you pull the car up, leave it runnin' this time. One of those bastards gets near me again, and I'm shootin' your ass. Copy?"

"Shut the hell up, Gorman. I can't help it your ass is too slow to out run those damn things."

Daryl hears the man, Gorman, give a hardy chuckle and it turns his stomach.

The third man, Lamson, asks Gorman if he wants him to wait outside or in the house.

"Take him out on the inside this time. Do it when they get to the bottom of the stairs. Head shot. No stupid ass mistakes. I'll grab the girl in the graveyard if you don't get her first." 

Daryl heart seizes at the man's words. He takes off. Half crawls, half runs back to the kitchen and tucks-in behind the wall. He hears Lamson open and shut the back door. Sees him walk past the opening to the kitchen and on down the hall. When Lamson stops and flattens his back against the wall, waiting for Daryl and Beth to emerge from upstairs, Daryl whistles. It's a quick, sharp, attention getting whistle that spins Lamson around to face him. Lamson has no time to register the simple fact that he's a dead man before Daryl releases a bolt straight into his heart. Shocked recognition spreads across his face and he drops like a rock. Daryl grabs his pack and tosses it on his back. Pulls the bolt from the dead man's chest, and hot-foots it down Beth's path to the living room. He makes it to the porch and sees her moving from one headstone to another in the yard. She is ducking behind each one and pausing before she takes off for the next, staying low and moving quickly. Daryl scans the yard for the man that did all the talking, but he doesn't see any sign of him. He throws open the porch door and charges charges down the steps just as Beth pulls up short and throws her hands in the air. Gorman appears from behind a marble statue marking one of the graves. Grabs Beth and spins her. Holds her to him with a forearm across her chest and shoves his gun into her temple. He moves the two of them closer to Daryl. Tells him to drop the bow, "or this little lady here, dies."

Daryl lowers his crossbow and keeps his eyes locked on Gorman. "Now the pack," Gorman demands.

Daryl slides the pack from his back and drops it next to his crossbow. Gorman flicks his gun and motions for Daryl to move away from the bow. "On your knees." 

Daryl obliges and Gorman gives Beth a shove. Makes sure she feels the barrel of the gun against the back of her head. He grabs his handcuffs and tosses them to Daryl. "Put 'em on." 

Daryl does what he is told. He won't risk Beth.

Gorman moves Beth with him toward the crossbow and the pack. Tells Daryl to lay flat on his stomach. Tells Beth to get on her knees and drop her pack next to Daryl's. When she does, the jar of grape jelly that Daryl was dipping his fingers in rolls out. Reality crashes in, and Beth lets go of a quiet, panicked sob. She looks at Daryl, her source of strength and comfort, and zeroes in on his eyes. Daryl jerks his chin in her direction and gives her a small smile. She thinks it's probably his way of saying goodbye, but Beth refuses to believe that this is the end. Gorman says something lude about her looking good on her knees. Says, "we're gonna' have a lot of fun together, you and me. You got a name, pretty girl?"

Beth doesn’t answer. Keeps her eyes locked on Daryl.

"I said, 'you got a name'?" She can hear the temper rising in his voice, but she remains silent. She won't give him the satisfaction of her obedience.

"Name!" he snaps. Beth stands firm, eyes still locked on Daryl's. She can just imagine what she is in for if this guy takes her away from Daryl. Decides she won't let that happen without a fight.

Gorman bends on one knee next to her. Grabs her ponytail and jerks her head back. "First thing you're gonna' learn when we get back to Grady is respect. I'm fixin' to save you. And that means you owe me. That little herd we keep pinned up over there on the other side? They're gonna' get tired of fightin' over those rats we put on the porch." He looks over his shoulder. "Here comes a couple of 'em now. You come with me easy, and I don't shoot your boyfriend over there. Give him a chance to get away. You give me trouble, and I'll put a bullet in his leg. Let the biters take care of the rest." He lets go of her ponytail and leans in close to her ear. His breath is putrid against her cheek. "Now tell me your name," he whispers menacingly.

Beth is gripping the grape jelly jar by her knee. She's been edging it closer since he kneeled down beside her. She takes a deep breath and screams. It’s a guttural roar that shocks the uniformed prick by her ear. She puts everything she has into slamming the jar against the side of Gorman's head. The jar shatters on impact and Gorman hits the ground. Beth shoots up and towers over him. She's shaking from head to toe and breathing so fast she thinks she might pass out, but she isn't done. Two walkers focus in on her and Gorman. They pick up the pace, spurred by Beth's war cry and the smell of Gorman's blood. Beth ignores them. Stomps Gorman's face with the heel of her boot. Daryl is screaming her name. Yells for her to move. He sounds terrified, and that snaps her back into rational thought. She follows his voice and sees him behind her holding his crossbow awkwardly. Beth frowns and remembers the handcuffs. She squats next to Gorman. Hears the familiar click of Daryl's bow followed by a quiet thump somewhere close behind her. She digs through Gorman's pockets and comes up with a key. Beth flies to Daryl and unlocks the cuffs. He shoves her behind him and slams his bow into a walker's head. Two more are quickly shuffling their way. They grab their packs and head for the honeysuckle.

Daryl leads them along the tree line at the edge of the woods. They stay within the trees and follow the gravel road leading from the trap house to the pavement. It's dark now, the moon is just a sliver in the sky. It's almost too dark for Beth to see her feet in front of her. She is holding on to the tail of Daryl's vest, stepping exactly where he steps. Grateful for something to focus on. Daryl hears the car running and slows his pace. The car is dark, maybe black, but the head lights and the interior light are on. Only one person is visible in the front seat. Daryl sheds the big pack and drops it silently at Beth's feet. Turns and cups her face. "You okay?" he whispers. She nods her head in his hands. He pulls her to him and holds her tight. "Bravest person I ever met. Fierce," he mumbles into her hair. She isn’t even sure it was meant for her to hear. 

Daryl tells her to wait here. Reminds her to stay sharp. The herd that Gorman let loose looked to be about 12 in number. Most of them will hover around his dead body, fighting for a spot at the human buffet. But stragglers will likely head toward the sound of the motor. Daryl says he is going to the car to take care of the driver. Secure them a ride out of here. He kisses her, quick and hard, on the lips. Takes a second to look her over. Then drops to his belly. Slides down the grassy incline with his crossbow strapped to his back. Beth sinks to her knees next to a tree and stares into the darkness. She can't see him anymore. Feels overwhelmingly alone. Panic rises in her chest, even more so than when that prick Gorman had her on her knees. Her heart is pounding against her ribs. She needs to be with Daryl. Needs to see him. She finds her strength when he is near.

Daryl hits the gravel and belly crawls to the rear passenger door. He swings his feet toward the back tire and lifts his head to peak in the side mirror. The uniform clad man has his eyes glued to the driver's side mirror. He is trained on the rear of the car, watching and waiting for two men that won't be joining him. Daryl doesn't like his position. This asshole peaks at the passenger side mirror and Daryl is busted. He slides silently toward the front of the car. Beth can see flashes of the moon reflected off his crossbow as he moves. She remembers to breathe. Relaxes her painful grip on the backpack at her side.

The headlights set low on the bulky, four-door sedan. Daryl considers his options. Decides to keep moving across the front of the car on his belly. He pulls his bow from his back. He will have to hold it out in front of him. If he leaves it on his back, it will traverse the beams from the headlights and give him away. He stops between the two headlights and grabs a few pebbles from the drive. He needs to get the drivers attention to the other side of the car. Make sure the element of surprise stays with him. He is just about to toss a pebble blindly over the top of the car, hoping to hit the rear, when a loud bang makes him jump. He hears Beth yelling, "Hey! Hey! Over here!!" and pounding on the bumper of the car. The driver-side door opens and Daryl leaps to his feet. Buries a bolt in the man's neck without hesitation. Asshole never saw it coming. Beth flings the back door open and wiggles out of the big pack. Tosses it across the back seat and slams the door. She and Daryl both slide into the front at the same time. Beth looks over her shoulder and sees several walkers heading their way. Looks back at Daryl to find him staring at her in disbelief. "Damn, girl," he says. He had intended to yell at her for taking a risk like that, but her eyes are wild, and her cheeks are flushed. She's beautiful and brave and she is his partner, one hundred percent. She took a calculated risk to save them both, and he can't fault her for that. 

Daryl slams the sedan in gear and throws gravel at the walkers on their tail. They hit the pavement and make a left turn headed north. Beth leans over the seat and surveys the stash in the back. There are a few blankets stacked on the seat and a cardboard box filled with canned goods, two more jars of peanut butter, and another jar of jelly. Beth reaches for the jelly and looks at the label. Peach. "Thank goodness," she whispers. She isn’t sure she can ever stomach seeing grape jelly again.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed my take on the funeral home scene. I think it's time B&D find their family! 


	14. Whip-Poor-Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the delay! My lap top crashed. I lost my notes and its been in the shop. But I'm back at it now. Thanks for reading!

Daryl slows the older sedan a few miles away from the trap house. They are heading north on a tank three-quarters full. Beth unhooks her seatbelt and slides to the middle of the bench seat and wraps herself around Daryl's arm. He's tense. She can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Neither of them has spoken since they left the trap house and the few remaining walkers still stumbling in a dark cloud of gravel and dust.

"What was that back there?"

Daryl's eyes cut to the rearview mirror. Nothing but darkness stares back. "Damn trap…"

"Why? I don’t get it." She sounds so… disappointed. All that faith and hope of hers has taken another hit. 

"I dunno. But thanks to you, they won't be hurtin' nobody else… You were amazin', girl." His voice takes on an edge of awe. "I damn near got you taken, Beth." She doesn't miss how his knuckles turn white against the steering wheel.

"Don’t do that, Daryl. That back there was on those pricks. Not on you. But from now on, we stick together. No matter what."

"Yeah, no matter what."

Beth squeezes his bicep and presses a gentle kiss to his shoulder. "Where to now?"

"Was thinkin' we might pull off up here somewhere for the night. Circle back toward the prison and see if we can find any of our people."

"Really?" Beth says, and he can hear the hope start to rise again in her voice.

"Figure we can since we got a car now. Make a quick trip back and jus' see."

"Yes… Yes, that sounds good."

Daryl pulls off onto a narrow dirt road that leads to what used to be the truck entrance to one of the abandoned factories. He backs the car into a narrow opening between two large trees just off the dirt road. The dense tree line and the dark sedan should give them plenty of cover for the night. Daryl shuts the car off and locks the doors.

"You hungry?" Beth asks.

Daryl's stomach answers her with a rolling growl. "I'm gonna' take that as a 'yes'," she giggles. 

He is exhausted and hungry and so incredibly grateful for their escape. Beth spins and throws her leg over the seat. She grabs a blanket, crackers, peanut butter, and a jar of strawberry jelly from the back and hands each one to Daryl as she goes. They are eating in relative silence, both going over the events at the trap house in their minds when Beth pipes up. "I never thought I could kill someone. Even after the world turned."

Daryl watches her as she carefully spreads peanut butter on a saltine with her finger. Thinks for a second about what to say. "Ya' did what ya' had to do, Beth. You’re fierce. Stronger than ya' know. Ya' keep provin' that."

"I don’t regret it. I just… I'm not sure how to feel. It's kind of surreal, you know?"

He nods his head. Has no idea what to say to that, so he reaches for her. Gently pinches her chin between his finger and thumb and lifts her eyes to his. He gives her what he hopes is a comforting smile. Beth returns it in kind and pokes her cracker sandwich at him. He opens his mouth and she drops it in. 

They finish eating and Beth stores their provisions away in the back. Daryl stretches out across the front seat. Pulls Beth down with him as she scoots back to the front. They are both exhausted. When the rain starts, Beth can't help but give herself over to sleep. Daryl fights to stay awake, but the steady beat of rain against metal pulls him under. 

Daryl wakes with a start. He isn't sure how long he's been out, but it's still dark outside, the deep middle of the night dark that he got so used to on watch at the prison. The rain has yet to let up. It's bringing with it a coolness that creeps into the car. He lays there unmoving, trying to decide if something outside woke him up or if it was the dream he was having. A man was pulling Beth into a car. She was kicking and screaming and doing everything she could to get away while Daryl watched helplessly, unable to move no matter how hard he tried. The man turned and smiled an evil, predatory grin made even more menacing by the patch he wore over one eye.

Deciding it was probably the dream, Daryl takes a deep breath and eases himself back down. Beth has shifted from his side and is currently stretched out on top of him. He swipes at her hair, pulling it back from her face and his. Runs his fingers through the tangled strands. She sleeps with it down. Says she gets a headache if she doesn’t. Sometimes she gathers it in a braid over her shoulder and sleeps that way, but Daryl prefers it loose and wild. Loves the way it frames her face like some crazy Indian head dress when she wakes up. 

Beth starts to stir. Daryl isn’t sure if its from his hands in her hair or if its due to the twitching of his length as it bumps against her thigh. Either way, she's burrowing against him, stretching her limbs like a cat as she comes fully awake. She props her chin on her hands and smiles before she even opens her eyes. When she finally lifts her lids and her eyes settle on his, she freezes. " _oh_ "

His eyes are dark and narrow, and he's looking at her like she's the last drink of water in the desert. Beth presses into him and drags her body against his. Her hands land on the front seat on either side of his face. She dips her head to lick across his pulse point, right where it disappears into his collar bone. She feels the growl works its way up his chest before she hears it rumble from his throat. She works her way up his neck and across his jaw to his ear, nipping at his earlobe before sitting up to straddle his waist. She pulls her shirt up and over her head. Rocks her center against the dancing bulge beneath her. Daryl squeezes her hips and starts to set up, but Beth pushes him back down with one finger against the center of his chest. She tosses her bra to the floor and pushes his shirt up just enough to place open-mouthed kisses to the trail of downy hair that disappears beneath his waistband. She wiggles back and pushes on his thighs, making room for herself between his knees. She undoes his belt. Chooses to ignore that he has had to add 2 holes to the leather so the belt is tight enough to keep his pants up. Even with the weight loss, he is still thick and stout and strong. Beth unzips his jeans and slides his boxers down with them to his knees. She kisses her way up his thighs and shivers at the quiet grunts and hums coming from Daryl. She has never done this before. Never even considered it. Jimmy suggested it once, and Beth thought it sounded like the single most disgusting thing she had ever heard. But here with Daryl, it excites her. She wants to make him feel as good as he has made it a point to make her feel. 

Beth takes his shaft in her fist. Gives it an experimental stroke. She nearly squeals when Daryl's hips jump, and he pumps into her fist. A couple of more strokes and a clear fluid eeks its way from the head. Beth is mesmerized. She swipes her thumb through the natural lube and smears it across his tip. Daryl's grip tightens on her hips and Beth grins. She likes making him twitch. Likes that she can affect him as much as he does her. When she bends down and slides her tongue across him, she feels Daryl shiver beneath her. When she slides the length of him into her mouth and scrapes her teeth against his shaft on the way back out, a string of curse words fall from his mouth. She giggles as she takes the length of him into her mouth again. She experiments with this and that, uses her tongue and her teeth to urge him toward satisfaction. Daryl is pumping his hips as gently as he can, but damn, his girl isn’t making it easy. She swirls her tongue in a tantalizing loop around his shaft as she slowly pulls him out. Gently bites down on his head and releases him with a pop. Another string of curse words and Beth finds herself underneath him on the front seat. His mouth and his hands are everywhere all at once. He rolls her nipple between his fingers and nips at her neck. His hand slides to her jeans but he can't get her belt to cooperate. Beth slaps at his hand. "Daryl, let me take care of you. You're always doin' for me. Let me do for you."

"You are sweetheart. I promise. 'Bout had me spewing in your mouth. Ain't ever gonna' do that."

Beth smiles at him tenderly. Reaches up to kiss him slow and easy. When she pulls back, she starts to wiggle out form underneath him. "On your back, mister."

"Beth," he gripes.

"I mean it, Daryl. On your back."

He lets her win and rolls to his back. Beth straddles him again and uses her hand and her mouth to work him into a frenzy. She can tell he's close. The way his breath hitches and his hips twitch tell her he is almost there. He rolls to the side and lets loose on the floor of the car. Beth watches as he finishes. Hopes that maybe someday they will be safe, and he won't have to spill his seed anywhere but inside of her. 

Daryl flops back onto the seat and peeks at Beth through narrowed eyes. She smiles shyly and he shakes his head. A crooked, satisfied grin stretches across his face. He pulls her to him for a long and languid kiss. When Beth pulls back, she can tell sleep is tugging him under again. She reaches down for her shirt and her bra before tucking herself in next to him.

"Shit, Beth. I didn’t get any on your stuff, did I?"

"No, we're good," she says. She dresses and molds herself to his side. She's drawing little figure eights on his chest. Lulling him back to sleep. "Daryl?"

He answers with a sleepy "hummm".

"I love you"

He squeezes her to him. Lands a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I love you too, sweetheart."

**~TWD~**

They drive back towards the prison like they talked about the night before. Beth is resting her head on her elbow, eyes closed, as the wind whips all around her. It’s a beautiful day. One she would have spent lying by the creek writing songs and playing her guitar in her old life. Daryl glides the car to a slow stop. Reaches for Beth and tells her to roll the window up. She does so without hesitation and focuses her attention to what's ahead of them on the road. Two men are standing with their backs to the Beth and Daryl. One more has a gun pointed at a woman kneeling on the ground. A black woman with long dreads. Another has a boy pinned to the ground while another holds his gun to the temple of a man with curly hair and a thick beard.

"Daryl!" Beth half whispers.

"I know"

Daryl throws the car in reverse and lets off the break. The group hasn’t seen them yet. He lets the car roll to a stop just out of sight. He takes Beth's hand and pulls her across the front seat. Locks the car, and they dive into the trees. They follow the tree line at break neck speed. Beth is amazed at how, even at a run, Daryl's footfalls make no sound. She does her best to do the same. They slow when they hear the men talking. Daryl pulls Beth into a squat next to him and peaks around a tree. 

"What?" Beth asks. He looks confused. 

"It's Merle. He's got ahold 'a Rick."

"What," she says again.

Daryl shakes his head. It doesn’t make any sense. He looks again. Really looks at Merle and Rick. Merle has his forearm around Rick's neck, but Rick isn’t straining against him. Merle's finger is stretched firmly along the side of the Beretta he is holding against Rick's temple, nowhere near the trigger. Daryl can see the outline of a gun in the waistband of Rick's jeans pressed against his back. Merle is close enough he knows it's there too. Daryl cups his hand around his mouth and lets loose with a soft, melodious whistle that sounds to Beth like a bird, maybe a whip-poor-will. Merle tenses, but he doesn’t look toward the call. The gray-haired man with his back to Daryl is still talking. Going on and on about laying claim to people and provisions. About how this world is dog eat dog and some shit. Daryl sees Merle shift toward Rick and whisper in his ear. Rick's hand slides undetected toward his back. 

"Stay behind me," Daryl says, and Beth nods her reply. He goes to one knee and takes aim. 

Merle speaks up, loud and clear, in his booming voice. "Come on man! I know you're in charge an' all, but quit your yappin' and take the shot already."

Daryl releases a bolt on Merle's command. It hits its mark, striking Joe in the heart. Merle turns his gun on Joe's sidekick and Rick puts a bullet between the eyes of the man towering over Michonne. The man pinning Carl to the ground jumps back, hands raised. Rick and Merle pull their triggers at the same time. Pop! Pop! and the last of the claimers falls to the ground.

Michonne and Carl are running toward the trees. Rick turns in time to see Carl throw his arms around Beth. Michonne skirts the two of them to do the same to Daryl. Merle slaps Rick across the chest and saunters toward the new arrivals. "Nice work L'il Brother! Hell of a shot you made," he says before pulling Daryl into a quick, awkward hug. When he steps back, Rick pulls Daryl into a solid embrace and pats him hard on the back. Rick still hasn't said anything. Just shakes his head in disbelief. His mouth is slightly agape when he turns to Beth. She throws her arms around his neck and he scoops her up. Swings her in a circle. Beth cups his face in her hands. Gives him a peck on the cheek and a huge smile. Carl is next on Beth's list. Rick steps back and takes a long look at his family. He starts to laugh and a tear escapes down his cheek. 

Daryl tells them they have a car hidden around the corner. Rick tells them Maggie and Glenn, Sasha and Tyreese, plus a few more folks they have met along the way are hold up in a church not far from here. Beth asks about Judith. Rick smiles and tells her she's safe at the church too. She sighs in relief and Daryl squeezes her hand. Rick tells them that he and Carl and Michonne were out scouting when they ran across the men they left rotting in the Georgia sun back there. Merle tells Rick he's sorry he scared him, but he didn’t see any other way of getting out of the situations they were in. He had to pretend like he was with the claimers.

They are all in a bit of grateful shock. Walking together quietly toward the car. Rick nods at Merle and Daryl, "so the three of you got out together," trying to piece together what exactly happened a few minutes ago. 

"Nah, me and Carol got out together," Merle says. But his voice is uncharacteristically soft and unmistakably sad. 

Daryl speaks up. "She dead?" He needs to know. Quick, like ripping off a band-aid.

"I don’t know. We was hold up in a little house. Craziest damn thing. The cabinets were stocked with peanut butter and jelly. Place was clean as a whistle…" Daryl and Beth both freeze. Rick walks a step further and stops. Sees the tension in the set of both of their shoulders. Merle is too lost in his story to notice the shift. "Second night there, walkers damn near broke through the front door. We ran out the back and something slammed against my head. Everything went fuzzy, but I saw a car and two men. They grabbed her, kickin' and spittin', and that was it. She was gone."

"That how you got that cut on your head," Michonne asks.

Merle's fingers dance gingerly over the back of his skull. "Yeah. I tried to go after her, but I must 'a passed out. When I come too, I followed the tracks as long as I could, but... She was just gone."

"Car have a white cross on the back? The men wearing uniforms?" Daryl asks.

Merle's brow furrows. He shakes his head. Looks at Daryl like he might be crazy, but something in his question sounds familiar. He digs into his brain for an answer. Runs what he can remember across his mind. "Yeah… yeah, there was something on the back of the car. The back window… might 'a been a cross. Why?"

"Same thing happened to us," Beth says. "They set a herd on the place we were staying. Tried to kill Daryl and take me."

"What… ta' where?" Rick says. 

"I'm not sure. A guy in a uniform had ahold 'a me. Said when we got back ta'… I can't remember." She looks at Daryl, a deep furrow in her brow. "Did you hear what he said? He told me I would learn some respect when we got back ta'… It was a man's name. An old name… like a name you don't hear anymore. Like Otis or Hershel…" She lets go of Daryl and pushes the heals of her hands against her forehead. "Damn it…"

"Beth," Rick cuts in. "Listen, there's a technique we used to use with witnesses to help them remember details, especially after a traumatic event. Let's get to the car and get back to the church. We'll work on it there. For right now, try to clear your mind. It'll come. We'll get the others and we'll go get Carol."

Beth nods, but she's a long way off from letting it go and clearing her mind. Daryl drops his arm around her shoulder and nods to Rick and Merle. When they make it to the car, Daryl pops the trunk and they move the supplies from the back. Inside the trunk, they find a reusable bag containing a first aid kit and extra ammunition. Daryl looks at the side of bag and hollers for Beth. When she and the others round the back bumper, he's holding the bag out for her to see.

"Grady! Yes! That’s what he said! It's a hospital in Atlanta. That’s why it was familiar. Daddy had his heart cath done there a couple 'a years ago… Grady Memorial Hospital."

"So we get the others," Rick suggests. "We go to Grady and see what we're up against. See what the hell's goin' on."

"Whatever it is, they're down three men. Me and Beth took 'em out when we got away."

"Good. Let's get you two back to the family. We'll make a plan form there." 

A/N: So this is more of a filler chapter, but its good to see the family coming back together. Coming up, we make a trip to Grady! Thanks so much for reading! 


	15. Badass Beth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Grady we go! We have to get Carol back. But don't worry, this is my story. You know I'm gonna' take care of our people. This one was fun to write. I think I liked playing with Abraham the most.

There is a giant of a man standing on the little square porch outside the double doors of the church. His bright orange mustache is an entity all its own. Rick introduces Beth, Daryl, and Merle to Abraham. Merle shakes his hand. Looks Abe up one side and down the other. Now Abraham being Abraham doesn't mind the attention, but he, of course has something to say about it. 

"You like what ya' see there partner? I don't mind ya' lookin'. Hell, I don't blame ya'! But there's a fine piece of Latina lovin' through them doors that might eat your ass if she catches ya' starin' too much."

Merle opens his mouth, but Daryl cuts him off. "Keep movin' Merle." Gives him a little shove toward the doors. Daryl knows his brother must be a little intimidated otherwise Daryl would have never been able to keep his brother moving. 

Beth holds out her hand and hits Abe with the biggest, brightest smile he's ever seen. The big guy can't help but return it. He takes her little hand in his and leans in a little closer. "Slap my ass and call me Sally, you're a sweet little thing, aren’t ya'!"

Beth giggles at that, but Daryl isn't too sure what to think about this guys mouth. He puts his hands on Beth's hips, gives Abraham an amiable nod, and guides Beth through the now open doors.

Abe looks to Rick. "He's a quiet fella, huh? Somethin' wrong with him?"

"Nah, he's just quiet, like ya' said. Get to know him. You'll like him." With that he slaps Abraham on the shoulder and gives him a smile. He breaches the church doors just in time to hear Merle calling to Maggie.

"Hey, sweet cheeks! Got a surprise for ya," Merle hollers and throws his thumb over his shoulder.

Maggie gasps when she sees Beth step out from behind Merle. She takes off down the isle and throws her arms around Beth with so much force, had Daryl not been standing behind her, the two sisters would have hit the floor. Maggie crushes Beth to her, pulls back, squeezes Beth's face between her hands, and goes right back in for another bear hug. She reaches around Beth and claws at Daryl's sleeves pulling him into their little group hug as Glenn snakes his arms around both girls too. Tears of joy morph into the sobs of an overwhelmed heart when Rick presents Judith to the only mama she has ever known. Beth's baby girl wiggles and giggles and kicks her feet, reaching and falling into Beth's arms. She snuggles into Beth's neck while still bouncing excitedly. One chubby little fist curls into Beth's ponytail while the other slaps at Daryl's shoulder where he stands wrapped around his two favorite girls. Beth feels the quiet sniff shake his chest. She turns to see a tear or two escape down Daryl's cheek. "We're home," Beth whispers.

They are an army. Seventeen strong including Lil' Asskicker. They pull into a parking garage near Grady Memorial and set up camp on an upper level. There was no hesitation when the family heard where Carol is and why. They headed out the following morning on a mission.

Rick leads a scouting party to see what they are up against. He, Daryl, Beth, and Glenn go on foot. That was a heated discussion all its own. Maggie didn't want Beth out of her sight, much less involved with a scouting party. Beth pulled her sister to the side and gave her the what-for. Told her in no uncertain terms that she can take care of herself. Told her she was not leaving Daryl's side for any reason, period. At all. End of story. The sisters' argument spilled over into the ears of the family. Abraham, standing next to Daryl and Rick as the argument raged, turned his opinion to Daryl.

"You're one lucky hunk-a-hunk-a burnin' love their cowboy. Ain't nothin' better than bein' owned by a spirited woman. Believe me, I know. I'm a lucky som'bitch too. Yes, sir, that little blonde spitfire a' yours is a force to be reckoned with." 

Abraham says it with such appreciation and sincerity, Daryl thinks he must really mean it. He just isn’t quite sure yet how to take Abe when he says things like that (which seems to be every time Abe opens him mouth as far as Daryl can tell). Rather than say something that might set the big man off, Daryl just looks at him, eyes narrowed, mouth slammed shut, same as the last time. Abraham takes a big drag from the lit cigar perched between his lips, blows out a smoke ring, and barks a loud huff of laughter. Daryl can't decide if this guy is for real or not. He thinks he likes him. Thinks he reminds him a little of Merle. Knows he's glad a fella' that big is on their side, but he's gonna' need a little more time before he figures out how to respond to his antics. He sees Rick smile a little at Abraham's declaration. Knows Rick likes him. That's good enough for Daryl for now. 

Rick, Daryl, Beth, and Glenn stick to the shadows. By nightfall, there are two police cars parked inside the gated fence that surrounds the back entrance to the hospital. The gate is closed, but not locked. They have no idea how many people are inside apart from the four uniforms they watched enter the building. The hospital has power. At least the back half, where all of the activity seems to be, is lit up against the dark. The inhabitants appear to be using the second and third floors, best they can tell.

Rick suggests they hot wire one of the police cars and take it. Use the radio to make contact with the people inside of Grady. Beth suggests they ambush one of the cars in the morning. Grab the occupants and set up an exchange. "Two of theirs for one of ours," she says. Rick looks at Daryl. He gives him a nod, and Rick agrees. It’s a better plan.

They return to the garage and tell the others what they have decided. They can park their sharpshooters, Sasha and Maggie, one on each of the tall buildings that line the narrow drive to the fence. They will hide Beth and Daryl's Grady car at the entrance of one of the garages that lines the drive and wait for the police car to pass. The plan is to trap the cruiser between their Grady car and the firetruck. Fire a couple of sniper rounds to force the uniforms out of the car and grab them up. 

"They try to run…" Abraham chimes in, "We'll unload a shit storm from the front and a storm of shit from the rear. Damn fine thinkin' muchacho. Simple but effective."

"I wish I could take credit for it, but it's Beth's plan."

Abraham smiles large at that. "Well I'll be a monkey's dick. You're just full 'a surprises aren't 'cha sunshine."

With that, the plan is set. Rick and Abraham move the Grady car into position and head back to the camp. They eat and rest. There are enough of them now that they can take short shifts on watch and everyone can relax for an extended period of time. Beth and Daryl are curled up in the back of an old abandoned Bronco in the parking garage. 

"You sure you don’t wanna' stay here with Lil' Asskicker? You don’t gotta' go in there with me and Rick."

"You go, I go. Remember?" She pinches his chest playfully. "And that was a dirty trick using Judy to try and ditch me."

"I ain't tryin' to ditch ya', sweetheart. I just…"

"Yeah, you just…" she says through a giggle and steals a kiss. 

He runs his hand through her hair. It's loose like she always has it when she lays down to sleep. He knew there was no way in hell she would let him go without her, but it was worth a try. He has no idea how this exchange is going to go. They've got to grab the uniforms and their patrol car first. Then set the whole thing up. Then follow through with the swap. It’s a good plan, but there are a lot of variables, and they will be winging it for the most part. Beth knows he's thinking about tomorrow. Pulls on the patch of scruff at his chin to get his attention. He leans in for another kiss. This one is slow and languid and full of promise. They kiss until they have to stop to breathe. Beth snuggles into his chest and sighs. It isn't long before the two are drifting into sleep.

They manage to grab the two uniforms without a hitch. A woman named Shepherd and a tall, skinny guy named O'Donnell. The two of them are relatively cooperative. Once Maggie put a bullet in the hood and Sasha put a bullet in the back window, there was no arguing. The exchange is set. The woman in charge, Dawn Lerner, agrees to meet and swap Carol for her people, but it will have to be inside the hospital. Daryl doesn’t like it, but they will do what they have to, to get Carol back. They will not leave without her. Shepherd tells them Lerner is weak and indecisive. The others don’t respect her, but she is in charge for now. She says there are five more "cops" inside and several orderlies plus one doctor, but assures Rick and the others they won't be a problem. The way she says it eases Rick and the others a bit. It seems as if Shepherd is asking for help without coming right out and saying it. They get the feeling, should things go sideways, Dawn's support staff won't be a problem.

Inside the hospital, Merle, Rick, Daryl, Beth, and Abraham meet Dawn near the stairwell entrance. Merle is a bundle of nerves. He and Daryl talked this morning. He's got it bad for Carol. Says he likes who he is when he is with her. He chuckles and tells Daryl he half loves her and half fears her. Truth is she scares the shit out of him, "but in the best kind 'a way," he says. 

Daryl gets it. Promises Merle they will do whatever they have to, to get Carol out of there. Tells Merle he loves her too but in a different way, 'a course. "Seems like we both found more than we ever figured we could now that the world's gone to shit," Daryl says. 

"Yeah, ain't that somethin'. But you deserve it lil' brotha'. Ol' Merle here, well I'm just ridin' your sweet ass to redemption for now."

Carol is across the hall in a wheelchair surrounded by five uniforms and several people in street clothes or scrubs. Shepherd's intel proves reliable thus far. Rick skips the pleasantries. Tells Dawn they aren't looking for trouble. They just want Carol, and they'll be on their way. He tells Dawn to go ahead and let Carol come across, but Dawn refuses. She wants her people first. Rick sends Shepherd across but tells Abraham to hang on to O'Donnell. He then nods for Carol. Dawn snarls at him. Tips her head to the side and takes a beat to think on it. She seems to come to some sort of a decision, and Rick knows things just got complicated. He sees it in her eyes. His hand slides slowly to the butt of his gun. Daryl catches the movement. Maneuvers himself between Beth and Dawn. Dawn motions over her shoulder for a thin, wiry boy to push Carol toward her family, but stops him halfway across.

"Send O'Donnell and Noah will bring Carol the rest of the way."

Abe shoves O'Donnell, and he crosses the hall to stand with Shepherd and the others while Noah and Carol scoot past Dawn. They are quickly enveloped within the protective circle of the family. Merle kneels in front of Carol and squeezes her hand. Daryl has never seen that particular smile of Merle's before. Must be the one he keeps in his pocket just for Carol. Merle helps her stand and tucks her into his side. She reaches across the wheelchair and takes Noah's hand. Pulls him next to her. She is weak, but she is standing on her own two feet. She nods at Daryl when he catches her eye. Whispers to Merle, and folds Noah into the shadows behind her and Merle. Merle looks pointedly at Daryl and Rick. Noah is coming with them.

"We're gonna' back out 'a here," Rick commands, "and nobody's gonna' get hurt."

"Not until I get Noah back," Dawn challenges. 

"No, you don't get him back," Carol fires at Dawn. Daryl can hear the trace of fear in Carol's voice. That woman ain't afraid 'a nothin'. He figures things must be real bad for Noah here. 

Something in the air shifts. Daryl's hand lands on the butt of his gun. He feels Beth's fingers slip under his vest and bunch the back of his t-shirt in her fist. His stance matches Rick's, wide-legged and defensive. His gut tells him to be ready.

"Noah is mine," Dawn explains matter-of-factly. "I rescued him. I feed him. I keep him safe. He owes a debt to me and to this place. He stays here." Her lips stretch into a thin line. An evil smile, devoid of any good will paints her face.

Rick peeks over his shoulder at Noah. "Tell me your side of things, son."

Noah steps out from behind Carol and Merle. Carol grips the back of his shirt and keeps him from moving too far away from her. He is visibly shaking. Rick thinks he is probably older than he looks. Fear has a way of making boys look young and men look old. "They killed my dad," Noah says with a definite tremble in his voice. He clears his throat and begins again. "They forced me into their car at gunpoint. Brought me here to work. They prey on the weak. Bring 'em here and turn 'em inta' slaves. They tell ya' you can't leave until your debt is payed, but everything here comes with a price. Every morsel of food. Every drink of water. Every shower. Every hour of sleep. There's no way to catch up. I tried to escape once. That cost me more than I can ever work off."

"Damn," Abe stage whispers. He points one large finger at Dawn. "That is some Grade-A bullshit right there. Who in the holy hell do you think you are? Steeling people ain't right, and I'm the first to admit when Mr. Lincoln put an end to slavery, well that was the one and only happy accident to come out 'a the damn War of Northern Aggression. Ain't nobody lookin' to go back to that particular black eye in history. This place is monumentally fubared, and we're walking the hell out 'a here with this young man in tow. I double dog dare ya' to say any differ'nt."

Rick turns back to Dawn. "Yeah, what he said. Noah's coming with us." He looks past her at the people gathered across the hall. "Anybody else wants to leave, you’re more than welcome to join us."

Beth listens to Noah's testimony. It makes her sick. That would have been her if she and Daryl hadn't killed Gorman and his men. They wanted to take her because they thought she was weak. They thought they could take her away from Daryl just because. She's fuming and the self-righteous look on Dawn's face is only fueling that fire. She finds courage in Abe's honest monologue. Slips past Daryl before he can grab her and pull her back. She goes and stands in Dawn's personal space. Warning bells are screeching in Daryl's head. He moves forward, but he doesn’t pull her back. He knows better than to interfere. 

Dawn smiles sweetly at Beth. "What have we here? You have something to say too or do you want to stay here with us where you'll be safe and protected? You're more than welcome."

"What the hell is wrong with you," Beth says accusingly. Dawn's expression morphs from curious to shocked to beyond angry in the few seconds it takes Beth to dress her down. It's one thing for a man the size of Abraham to say his piece, but another thing entirely for a weak, little, slip of thing like Beth to take a stand. 

"I get it," Beth says and rocks up on her toes. "You think you're so superior. You think you've somehow earned the right to treat people you see as weak like chattel… like they were put on this earth to serve you. Truth is, you're nothin' without that gun. You're nothin' without those pricks who back you up. Those three monsters you sent out to bring back more people like me? They're dead. All three of 'em. Gorman and Lamson and Lacari? They saw me and figured I was easy prey. Well, guess what. They messed with the wrong weakest link. Your boy Gorman? I killed him myself. He dropped like a sack 'a shit when I smashed his head in." 

Dawn is temporarily stunned by Beth's rant. Beth steps back out of Dawn's face, having said her piece. She looks past Dawn's shoulder to the people across the hall. "If any of the rest of ya' wanna' leave this place, you're more than welcome to come with us. This indentured servitude business is bullshit, and this bitch is as weak as a kitten without backup. You don’t have ta'…" **Bam!**

It's like God hit the slow-mo button as Daryl watches Beth hit the floor hard. He draws his gun without even thinking about it… **Bang!**... And drops a bullet right between Dawn's eyes. Rick and Abraham are pointing their guns at the group in front of them. Merle grabs Carol in a crouch and wraps himself around her, gun drawn and pointed across the hall. Daryl dives for Beth. Rolls her to her back and pushes her hair out of her face. She has a hellacious gash across her left cheek, just below her eye. Blood is pouring from the tear in her skin and Beth is out cold. Daryl presses the bandana from his back pocket to the wound in a desperate attempt to staunch the flow of blood. Noah skids to a stop next to Beth's head and kneels down beside her. He screams for help. "Dr. Edwards! Dr. Edwards!"

Shepherd is demanding her people lower their guns. "Drop your weapons! Drop your weapons! Do it!!" It's all white noise to Daryl. His pulse is hammering in his ears. He keeps his bandana pressed to Beth's cheek, runs his trembling hand over the top of her head and down her other side. He is whispering her name over and over, like a prayer.

"Did she shoot her!?! What happened!?!" Noah is asking Daryl over and over between screams for Dr Edwards. "Dr. Edwards! Hurry!," he screams again. "Did she shoot her?"

Beth moans and squeezes her eyes tightly closed against the pain. She rolls to her side and vomits. It mixes with the blood pooling next to Dawn's dead body. Beth recoils from the smell of iron and bile. "Easy," Daryl whispers.

Dr. Edwards kneels next to Beth and plunks a medical bag by her side. He tries to push Daryl's hand from her wound. Big mistake. Daryl grabs the front of Edward's shirt and shoves him hard. He gently scoops Beth into his arms. Barks at Noah to grab the bag. He races past Rick and does his best not to jostle Beth as he takes off down the steps. Noah stops to help Merle support Carol and they move to follow Daryl. Rick backs toward Abraham. Abe slaps him on the shoulder and tells him to go. He follows behind Rick but doesn't leave before gifting the remaining group with a few words of wisdom.

"You people need to see this bullshit for what it really is… just that… bullshit. Some off-the-chart idiocracy you been puttin' up with. Kick yourself in your collective ass for followin' along when you knew better and make a change. Otherwise, you're gonna' need to learn how ta' sleep with two eyes open. 'cause these people you been pushin' around have, today, been schooled on what a well-played uprisin' can accomplish. Best 'a luck, motha' scratchers." He salutes them properly, then salutes them with one finger and a lot of moxy before turning and making his way down the steps to the exit.

Maggie sees Beth in Daryl's arms and drops to the ground with a heartbreaking whale. Rick rushes to her. "She's okay. Maggie, look at me. She's been pistol whipped. Knocked her out for a minute. She's gonna' be okay."

They drive to the outskirts of Atlanta and stop so Bob can have a look at Beth's face. She is sitting on the tailgate next to Daryl rubbing her temples against the pounding in her head. She hisses and squeezes Daryl's fingers until he thinks they might break when Bob injects her cheek with Lidocaine.

"Son of a… grrrrrr," she growls, and it's all Daryl can do not to knock Bob into next week. They give it a minute to numb and Beth catches her breath. Bob pokes at the wound and Daryl puffs a sigh when Beth nods. She doesn’t feel anything on her cheek. 

"You're gonna' have one hell of a scar, Beth. I'm sorry," Bob says as he gently cleans the wound with the antiseptic scrub from the med bag. 

"That's a'ight," Daryl says. "She's a badass. Badasses have scars."

"Daryl," Beth whines, and a blush blossoms across her right cheek matching the angry red on the left. 

"I second that emotion," Abraham chimes in. "Total B-A-D-ass. I'm still tryin' to figure out where you hide them steel testicles a' yours in those tight jeans you're sportin'. I do not want to be on the receiving end of your whoop-ass anytime soon, little lady."

Beth giggles at that. She likes Abe. He makes her laugh. Reminds her of a big 'ol bear. Daryl's not exactly sure how to take him yet. But if Beth likes him, he's willing to give the guy a chance. He's had their back and seems to be all-in with the family. So, he gives Abe a nod and something he assumes resembles a smile.

Abe huffs out another bark of laughter. "I think I like you two. You gotta' kinda' beauty and the beast sort 'a thing goin' on. I'm lookin' forward to gettin' to know ya'. Rick tells me you're a good man, Daryl. Loyal and good hearted. I trust that. See, I figured out real quick, Rick is a man who knows a shitload about a lot 'a shit… every fine grain 'a said shit to be exact. Now I know it may not seem like it, but I appreciate a man who can hold his tongue… Let his actions do the talkin' for him. You did just that today, Daryl. Gave that nasty bitch exactly what she earned. One 9mm round right between the eyes, courtesy of that sexy Glock 17 you keep perched on your hip. Poor Rick may still have a bit 'a brain in his ear, but that's a small price to pay when you're riddin' the world 'a evil. Yes, sir. I, for one, am giddy glad you took her out. Loose ends make my ass itch. Now those people at Grady can start fresh. Set up somethin' good, if the Lord's willin', where all that evil used to conspire. I'm figurin' too that if this sweet little lady, and by sweet I mean tough as shit nails and smart as a damn whip, thinks you're worth foresakin' all others for, then damn you probably are worth your salt. Who am I to argue? Lookin' forward to travelin' the dusty trail from here to DC or wherever the hell we land, side by side with ya'. We'll see what kinda' trouble we can find along the way." With that, Abraham lights a cigar, tosses the two of them a coy grin, and sidles off toward Rosita and Eugene. 

Beth realizes she has completely relaxed listening to Abraham prattle on. Bob is nearly finished with her stitches by the time Abe finishes talking, and she didn't even noticed the pull and tug along the way. She figures that was probably Abraham's intention all along. Yeah, Beth likes Abraham and Daryl decides he does too. He squeezes Beth's hand when Bob declares he is done. Bob tells her to keep it dry for at least a week and hands her a couple of Tylenol. He reminds Daryl to wake her every two hours over the next 24. He is certain she has a concussion. 

Daryl is a man on a mission. He borrows Abraham's watch and wakes Beth every 2 hours on the dot. They have pulled off the road somewhere into North Carolina to rest for the night. Daryl is sitting up in the back seat of the pick-up with Beth's head in his lap. Until now, he had never left the state of Georgia. He alternates between staring at Beth, making sure she is breathing, and staring out the window at North Carolina. He came so close to losing her today. He wants to scream at her. Tell her how stupid that was. How he would have laid down next to her and died right along with her had Dawn used a bullet instead of the butt of her gun. 

Another part of him is in awe of her tenacity. She is fierce when she makes a stand. A ferocious protector. He figured that out a long time ago when she declared she was going after Maggie to get her and Glenn back from the governor. The only thing she needed to know was who was coming with her. He smiles thinking back on that time when they were just figuring out what they meant to each other. Daryl knows she loved Noah as one of her own the moment she heard his story. He worries her heart will get her killed someday. He worries too, he won’t be able to keep his promise to Hershel and keep on livin' if anything happens to her. While most people these days define their life between what happened before the turn and what happened after, Daryl defines his by life before Beth and life with Beth. That doesn’t leave any room for life _after_ Beth, and he is okay with that for now. 

Beth moans and reaches for her head as her eyes flutter open. Bob said she could have two more Tylenol at 3am. It's not quite 3, but Daryl can't stand the idea of Beth hurting. He pulls the pills from his shirt pocket and reaches for the bottle of water. "Here. Take these," he rasps. "It'll help your head." He steadies her as she leans forward and tosses the pills down. Lowers her head back to his lap.

"I'm sorry, Daryl."

"Don’t be. Ain't on you what that bitch done."

"It was stupid of me to challenge her like that. I was just so mad at what she did to Noah and to us… to Carol. I'm sorry you had to be the one to kill her. I didn't know until Abraham…"

"Yeah, it’s a wonder his bottom jaw ain't flown off his face by now, he flaps it sa' damn much."

Beth giggles and immediately regrets it. She rolls to her uninjured side and presses her back against him. Takes a deep breath to tap down the nausea. Daryl runs his hand lightly up and down her side. "It was sweet of him to distract me like he did while Bob was sewing up my face."

Daryl hums his response and lets his hand rest at her hip. He uses his thumb to draw soothing circles on the skin he can see just above her waistband.

Beth is well aware Daryl brought up Abe's propensity to gab to deflect from her apology. She tries again. "Dawn needed ta' be stopped," she declares in no uncertain terms. "But, I am sorry I put you in the position to do it … 'cause 'a somethin' stupid I started."

"Wadn't stupid, girl. Took a lot 'a gumption to say those things ya' said. You were standin' up for Noah. Standin' up for what ya' believe in. Ain't nothin' stupid about that."

"Yeah, I'm not sorry she's dead. That probably makes me a bad person, but I'm not sorry. I guess what I'm tryin' to say is, I'm sorry you gotta' carry that around with ya'. I'm sorry too that I scared ya'. Nearly got myself killed. If the tables were turned, and you were the one that did that…"

"Naw, Beth. It's done. None 'a that matters. Just… maybe take me with ya' next time instead 'a meetin' somethin' like that head on, by yourself. You go, I go, remember? Can’t protect each other if we ain't together."

"Yeah… You're right. Always better together." She pulls his hand from her hip and laces their fingers together. Tucks their joined hands under her chin. "I love you, babe."

"Love you too, badass. Now go back to sleep." Beth starts to giggle but remembers what happened last time and settles on a smile. She misses the pained look that crosses Daryl's face. He physically hurts for her. It’s the damndest thing. 

Early the next day, they head out with a plan. Noah tells them he lived in a protected neighborhood a few hours from here, just on the other side of the North Carolina line. They had a gate and a wall when he and his dad left to scavenge. He thinks he was at Grady for close to a year so he can't promise them the place is still standing, but they all agree it's worth a shot. Merle drives the pick-up with Carol and Noah in the front seat. Daryl and Beth are in the back. The nausea has passed and all that is left is a dull headache. Beth pops two more Tylenol and tells Daryl she won't take any more. She says her pain is completely manageable and someone else may need them someday. Daryl's not buying it, but he lets her win for now. The windows are down, and Beth is sitting in the middle of the bench seat leaning against Daryl's side. Together they watch the North Carolina miles tick by. 

The pick-up runs out of gas first. The SUV is next. Daryl managed to get two vehicles going from the parking garage. They all pile into the Bronco Beth and Daryl slept in that first night in Atlanta, a Chevy Malibu that still wreaks of cigarette smoke even though no one has smoked inside the car in years, and the firetruck. Daryl briefly wonders how big the tank must be on that monstrosity. Of course Abraham drives a damn firetruck. What else what the big fella' drive? They coast into Noah's old neighborhood on literal and figurative fumes. 

There is nothing left. They almost lose Tyreese to one of Noah's little brothers… to what used to be one of his little brothers. They scavenge the neighborhood, but there is very little left. One of the homes produces several cans of hominy and corn, and a case of water long forgotten in the basement. With no plan other than heading North toward DC, the family hits the road. It will be a long hard haul, but together they will make it. "Faith," Beth tells Daryl. And heaven help him, he believes her.

A/N: I would so appreciate a comment on this one. I had so much fun writing Abraham of all people, but I'm not sure how it comes across. Nailed it? Needs a lot of work? Somewhere in between? Thanks so much for reading!


	16. On the Road Again

The vehicles have long ago run out of gas. They've been hot-footin' it for days. Damn if Daryl didn't think some of that oppressive, breath-stealing humidity might dissipate as they moved north. He thought maybe the world being on reset might even things out, put mother nature back on an even keel. But nope, she's still a bitch, and it chaps his ass. 

They've been sticking to the two-lanes, following the tree-line in case they need to duck and cover, but it hasn't been an issue. There have been no people and very few walkers since they left Atlanta. Nobody is saying too much. Each small unit whispering here and there amongst themselves, mostly asking the other how they are doing along the way. Rick and Michonne are at the point. Noah, Carl, and the Preacher Man are following close behind. Merle and Carol are shoulder to shoulder in front of Sasha, Bob, and Tyreese. Maggie and Glenn are next. Abraham, Eugene, Tara, and Rosita had been at the caboose, but Daryl didn't like it. He's good with Abe now, and Beth seems to have developed a fledgling friendship with Rosita, but Eugene and Tara are far from on his good side. 

Maggie mentioned Tara was a part of the Governor's group that attacked the prison. Mentioned it casually like she was sharing what she had for dinner last night. _What the hell_? And Eugene. Well he's an odd bird in the weirdest way. Made a comment about Beth right after they stopped to sew up her cheek. Daryl didn't fully understand what he said, but he definitely caught the general meaning. Something about Beth being hot and him being the Ken to her Barbie. He's damn lucky he's got that red 'stached, overgrown cinnamon stick lookin' out for him. Pulled him away from Daryl, and said something about Eugene being half genius, half special, and three-quarters dumbass most 'a the time. Ushered him out of Daryl's reach real quick, givin' Eugene the what-for all the way. 

Then Mr. Three-Quarters Dumbass confessed he'd been lying the whole time about a cure and being in possession of the know-how to create said cure. The only thing that saved him from Abraham was the thin herd of walkers that stumbled out of the woods, as if on cue. When the fighting was done, and everyone was still breathing hard, Abraham walked right up to Eugene and put a fist through his nose. Eugene hit the pavement like a rock. If Abraham's tooth rattling punch sent Eugene's brain sailing to the back of his head, the concrete pillow Eugene landed on sent it flying back to the front. That dumbass was gonna' wake up just plain stupid if he ever woke up at all. Which he did… a whole day later. And nobody offered _him_ a Tylenol.

Their food supply is holding... for now. The rations they took from the trap house kept them fed for several days. Lil' Asskicker is a big fan of grape jelly. There is strength in numbers, but food disappears quickly with that many mouths to fill. The general store they come across near the cluster of vacation cabins is a Godsend. Food and shelter. They boil the water over small fires they build during the day, just to be sure. They fill every container they find. Beth and Daryl hunt every morning of the five days the family spends in the two cabins furthest off the road. 

The last two cabins sit fairly close together, close enough the family is comfortable splitting up. They keep a lookout on the front porch of one and a lookout on the back porch of the other. That should be enough to cover them. Daryl and Beth take the small bedroom under the stairs. Maggie and Glenn take the downstairs master. Noah and Carl grab the upstairs room with the twin beds. Rick, Judith, and Michonne take the other bedroom upstairs with the two bigger beds. All the others settle into the cabin next door.

Daryl and Beth are tucked in under the quilt in their room, Beth half on top of him. She draws lazy figure eights on his chest. Enjoys the way his muscles twitch when she scratches lightly across his skin. "Do you think there's something goin' on with Rick and Michonne," she asks.

He surprises her with his matter of fact answer. "Yep"

Beth sits up on her knees, wide-eyed. "Really?" Daryl shrugs and folds his arms behind his head. "How do ya' know?"

"I ain't blind… They stand too close. Rick smiles too much… They're in sink, like us."

Beth considers his words. A slow grin spreads across her face. "I like it. They seem like a good fit."

Daryl nods. Starts chewing on the inside of his lip. Something in the way he is watching her shifts. Beth's heart studders in her chest. Picks up its pace beneath the weight of his gaze.

"What?" _Why is her voice so breathy_ , she wonders.

He doesn't answer right away. Just keeps lookin' at her like he wants to say something.

"You don’t like Rick and Michonne bein' together?" She knows that's not what he's thinkin', but she isn't sure how else to get him talking. 

"Nah, I'm glad they're figurin' it out."

"Then what is it? What's wrong?"

"Ain't nothin' wrong, sweetheart," he says, but he's chewing on the inside of his lip, and he's looking at her like he wishes she could read his mind instead. Beth cocks her head and waits. Sometimes words are hard. "I just… I found somethin' in the store today. I uh… well, I…"

A nervous giggle bubbles up from Beth's throat. He's acting very strangely _. And is he blushing?_ "What?" 

He studies her for a second. Thinks maybe it's best to just show her. "Ah, hell…" he says, twists, and reaches for the bedside table. He pulls out a small box and tosses it at her. Really, he just wants to crawl under the bed and hide, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at her expectantly, the tips of his ears on fire, and waits for her to do or say something... anything. 

Beth picks up the box. Now she is the one with the pretty blush on her face. She looks at Daryl through her lashes. "I can't believe…"

"I'm sorry, Beth," he interrupts her with a mumbled, self-loathing apology. "I shouldn't 'a… Things have been good. I didn’t mean to put no pressure on ya'… I just… well, Glenn was a few isles over, and I knew as soon as he saw 'em, he'd be snatchin' 'em up like they was the damn cure or some shit."

Beth lays a gentle finger over Daryl's lips. "Hush, Daryl. I was gonna' say, 'I can't believe you found these,' then I was gonna' kiss ya' and tell ya' how glad I am ya' did."

Beth sits back on her heels, and Daryl looks her up and down, chewing hard on the corner of what is left of his thumb nail. She catches the beginning of a smirk before he shoots forward and grabs her about the waist. Hauls her to him and flips her on her back. She barely has time to giggle before he's planting a playful but urgent kiss on her lips. He feels her smile. Kisses her teeth and huffs a happy laugh himself. Beth slides her leg up the side of his thigh and threads her fingers through his hair. Tilts her head and deepens the kiss. The time for playfulness has passed. They have condoms by golly, and Beth is on a mission. Daryl pulls back and looks at her. Slides his arm behind her neck. Lets his other hand rest flat against her ass. "You sure, sweetheart? I ain't about puttin' pressure on ya' to do something ya' ain't ready to do."

"I'm ready, Daryl. I've been ready. Now that we're back with our family... We've got this cabin and this bed… It's pretty perfect, don’t ya' think?"

"It is pretty prefect," he echoes. "I love ya', Beth. I'll go slow and easy, I promise. Don't you be worryin' about me… You just let me carry ya' through it, okay? I don't wanna' hurt ya'."

His eyes are soft and sincere. Eyes that can make the hardest man's blood run cold show her nothing but love and affection. This is her Daryl. Her sweet, protective, gentle Daryl. Beth nods her head and gives him a shy, and maybe a little bit of a nervous smile. "I trust ya', Daryl. And I'm ready. I'm ready to do this with _you_. Only you."

"Damn right, only me," he says, and kisses her possessively. It’s a long and languid kiss. Beth can already feel the heat rising in her belly. They shed the barriers between them, physically and metaphorically. They are the only two people that exist in their world. The only thing worth living or dying for is how they feel right now in this space and in this time. Beth is laid out before him, hair loose, lips swollen, naked and open only for him. Daryl settles a knee between Beth's knees and nudges them apart. Her breath catches as he slides a rough and calloused hand up her thighs, thumbs skimming against the juncture at her pelvis. His lips go to work on her flat belly while his hands continue their upward climb tight against her ribs. Beth's legs drag against his, knees pressing against his hips. He licks his way to the narrow valley between her breasts. Hot, wet kisses have her keening in anticipation. Daryl drags his thumbs across her tight peaks, and Beth's hands land in his hair. Scrape against his scalp. When he circles his tongue along the same course, Beth arches into him aching for more. 

Daryl slides his mouth back down her belly and uses his hands to take up the cause, kneading her soft breasts. Pinching and rolling their most sensitive parts through his fingers. Beth is nearly frenzied by the time he jerks her to the edge of the bed and goes to his knees. When his tongue finds her center, he has to hold her still with gentle but heavy hands flat against her hip bones. Not forcing, but quietly keeping her from flying off the bed. She strains against him. Presses into Daryl's mouth and the new sensation of his scruff against her most delicate and sensitive center. The friction is delicious. The noises she is making tells Daryl he is doing everything exactly right. Beth speeds toward that precipice, pulling at Daryl's hair and doing everything she can not to cry out in sweet release. When she finally lets go, Daryl skims his nose and tongue against her inner thighs easing her back down.

Beth is panting, eyes closed, fingers trailing a path up and down her own abdomen. She smiles lazily when the bed dips next to her and Daryl gently shoos her fingers away. Spreads his palm flat against her abdomen. "You like that," he whispers. It isn't a question, rather a statement of discovery, that he stores away in his memory.

Beth nods and a sweet, satisfied grin splits her lips. "Oh, yeah, Mr. Dixon. Very much…"

"Mr. Dixon, my ass," he says and flops to his back. Beth yelps when he scoops her up and parks her across his center. He finds the box of condoms and pulls one free of the wrapping. Hands it to Beth.

Beth sucks her lower lip between her teeth and runs her hand the length of his shaft. Swipes her thumb across the head and feels his hips buck just a bit beneath her. She slides the condom into place. Looks at him through her lashes shyly. "Come 'ere," he all but growls. 

Beth's hands land on either side of his face so she is on all fours over him. Her gaze is heady and determined. That look alone has his pulse quickening all the more. Beth leans down to kiss him. Nips his lower lip, then soothes the spot with a lick of her tongue and nips him again. His hands find her breasts, kneading and rolling her peaks between his fingers. Beth immediately begins to climb again. She throws her head back and grinds against him, rocking back and forth slowly along the length of him. Daryl's hands fall to her hips and his mouth takes over the maddening tease of her breast. He can see that she is close. Is in awe that he is the one that does this to her. "Only me," he mumbles, voice deep and husky in Beth's ear. 

She has her lip caught between her teeth again, and she's working hard against him, discovering what feels good and what feels even better. But she nods, eyes closed, and makes him a promise. "Only you."

Daryl reaches down between them and swirls his finger over her sweet spot. She gasps and her eyes fly open, wild and unfocused. He does it again and this time she moans. Grinds against him and swirls her hips. He does it again and she leans back. Breaths his name over and over again. Once more and she shatters. It is the most beautiful thing Daryl has ever seen. He barely allows her time to recover before he flips her to her back and settles between her thighs. He guides himself to her entrance, teasing her open and sliding in, just breaching her core. Beth tenses and grabs his forearms, but her knees bend and fall away from his hips on instinct, opening herself fully to him. Daryl leans down and kisses her tenderly. Pushes her hair away from her face. "I'll go slow. I promise. If it’s too much, you just say the word. I'll stop."

Beth nods and scrapes her nails up his arms, finding purchase on his biceps. Daryl pushes in to her. She is hot and wet and so tight around him. He meets resistance. Knows this next part will probably hurt her the most. Pushes in a little further and feels the snap. Beth whimpers beneath him and Daryl stops. Studies her face for any sign that he wants her to stop. She is the picture of concentration, like she is trying to sort through the feels and sensations and commit this whole thing to memory. "Okay, sweetheart?"

Beth nods, and tightens her grip on his arms. She knows it's the membrane, the one she learned about in health class. It hurt. A quick, sharp pain. But now she feels like she is on fire, in the best kind of way. It's a sweet sort of pain. It leaves her yearning for more. Tingling all over. Daryl pushes further in, and Beth's hips lift to accommodate the length of him. He fills her completely and its like nothing she could have ever imagined. She can feel him holding back. Knows there is more of him to take.

Daryl is calling on every bit of self-control he can muster. It's all he can do to take it this slow, but Beth is worth it, and he would rather cut his balls off than lose control and do any damage. When Beth's hips retreat then rise again to meet his, it's too much. He pushes the rest of the way in and seeds himself as deep as he can inside of her. Beth sucks in a noisy gasp and arches into him, breathes out his name. Daryl's hands splay across the small of her back, holding her hips in place against his. He eases her back down slowly. Takes her hands and draws them up and over her head. Tangles his fingers in hers. He draws back and slides in again. Sets a slow rhythm that Beth quickly matches. He uses his free hand to stroke her breasts, roll her peaks. Reaches down between them as he backs out, teasing that spot he has come to appreciate for what it does to his girl. He watches her climb. Thinks again that she is the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. 

They pick up the pace, and he knows she is almost there. He buries his head in the crook of her neck. Husks her name in her ear, and nips at her shoulder. He is trying so hard not to hurt her, but he is quickly barreling toward his own sweet release. He draws back, and Beth pushes off her heels. Slams into him with force. Breathes his name, louder and louder until she slams her knees against his hips and stalls, clinches around him, and falls apart in waves. 

"Beth… Shit, Beth, I gotta'…"

She nods and her hips sink into the mattress. A few hard thrusts, and he is falling over the edge right along with her. Daryl collapses on top of her, breathing hard. Heart pounding against her chest. They are slick with sweat, completely spent. Beth strokes his back, nimble fingers ghosting over his scars, not avoiding a one of them. Daryl buries his face her hair. Breathes her in. They lay perfectly still waiting for their hearts to settle before Daryl pushes to his forearms and hovers over her. Silent tears are flowing from the corners of her eyes, but she's wearing a shy, satisfied smile.

"Shit, Beth. Did I hurt ya'? You okay, sweetheart?"

He looks so worried, nearly devastated thinking he might have hurt her.

Beth pulls her lip between her teeth and shakes her head. "That was amazin', Daryl. I'm pretty sure I'll be sore, but no, I'm not hurtin'."

Relief washes across his face. Beth frames his face in her small hands. "You are the sweetest, kindest man. Thank you for takin' care of me, Daryl. Thank you for lovin' me. And for sharin' all of you with me."

Daryl just shakes his head. He has no idea how she can love him like that. How she can say those things to him. His heart feels like it might explode. Now he is the one swiping at tears. All he can do is bend down and lay a gentle kiss against her lips. It’s enough for Beth.

Beth wakes with an encompassing warmth wrapped around her back and a heavy weight over her hip and torso. Daryl's hand is tucked up under her chin holding tight to her shoulder. She runs her fingers the length of his forearm and snuggles in closer to his chest. A gravelly, "mornin', sweetheart," tickles her ear. Beth scoots to her back and stretches. Arches and hums like a cat. "Mornin'," she answers and turns into his chest. There is no window in their little bedroom under the stairs, so she truly has no idea what time it is. She is naked between the covers, as is Daryl, so she really doesn't care what time it is. 

Daryl's hand shimmies down her spine, and Beth shivers. "Ya' cold?"

"No," she says through a smile and shivers again when his fingers slide across her bottom and down the back of her thigh. He pulls her knee over his hip and trails his fingers back up her leg, dangerously close to her center. A few more passes and he is teasing her senses awake and into overdrive. He holds on to her knee and presses her into the mattress. Reaches over her and grabs the box of condoms from the bedside table. Beth follows his hand with her eyes and sucks her lip between her teeth. Daryl catches the movement and freezes.

"Oh, hell, Beth. I'm an asshole. Your sore. I'm sorry… It’s just… You make me crazy for wantin' ya', girl."

"Daryl," she says and hushes his self-loathing apology much like she did last night. "I ain't that sore. Besides, I've always heard that the best way to get rid of an ache is to work it out… So, I think we should do that… work it out I mean." She takes the little square package from his hand and delicately rips it open with her teeth. Giggles at the growl she more feels than hears and slips the condom into place.

Daryl falls back to his side. Pulls her with him and hooks her leg back over his hip. He tests the waters. Slips one finger, then two, in and out, delicately caressing her walls. Keeps flicking his eyes to hers making sure he sees no signs of distress on her face or in her pretty blues. Beth's chest skims against his as she moves against his fingers. The delicate brush against her overly sensitive peaks is maddening. She pushes harder into him and Daryl takes her into his mouth. She throws her head back, eyes closed, and arches into him. Whispers his name again and again. The heat rising in her belly threatens to burn her up. He slips inside her, all the way, slow and easy but without hesitation. Lifts his chin and catches her lips. Beth's hands tangle in his hair. Their kisses are slow and thorough as is their rhythm below. It's like riding gentle waves in the ocean. Beth rocks back and forth along the length of him, slow and steady. When their hips meet, Daryl pushes a little harder and Beth feels completely consumed. "Shit, Beth," he whispers with such awe and wonder it fills Beth's heart to overflowing. This new angle lends itself to their easy pace. He pulls himself almost completely out before sliding slowly back in, again giving an extra little thrust before pulling all the way back again. Beth thinks she might die from the gentle sincerity of it all. This isn’t the wild love they shared last night. This is a surrender. A promise.

"Daryl," she whispers. Lets him know she can feel her release building, winding up from the tips of her toes.

"Come with me, Beth."

She nods frantically and Daryl rolls her to her back. It isn't long before Beth is tightening around him, shuttering against him, and whispering his name. Daryl follows her over the edge. When his heart rate slows and the lazy haze of afterglow presses in on them both, He rolls to his back and brings Beth with him. She stretches out on top of him and hums her satisfaction.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs into her hair before they both slip into sleep.

When they emerge from their little room, the cabin is quiet. The sun is on its way up, just starting to peak over the horizon. A quick breakfast and they are heading into the woods to see what they can find. They spend the majority of the day hunting and tracking and spending time alone just being quiet together. 

Their third night there, Beth asks Daryl if he would like to take Merle with him the next morning. Says it might be nice for the brothers to spend some time together out in the woods. He looks at her like she has sprouted horns. Beth doesn't miss the flash of hurt in his eyes too. "You tired 'a me already, girl?" He says it playfully, but Beth can hear the undertone of worry beneath his question.

"Daryl, I could never get tired of huntin' with you. And I don’t want you to go without me. I just… I guess I just thought I oughta' maybe share ya' with Merle too. I mean, if that's what ya' want. I know the two of ya' used to hunt together, right?"

Daryl narrows his eyes at her, thinking it over. Finally, he shakes his head. "Naw, girl. If I'm goin' huntin', I'm goin' with you."

Beth smiles her agreement, and Daryl gives her a single jut of his chin. "Come 'ere," he rasps. "I'm feelin' like we ought ta' take advantage of this bed while we got it." 

Beth crawls over to him from her spot at the foot of the bed. Her lips are the only thing that touch him. She kisses and nips at his neck. Giggles at the quiet growl that escapes his throat. When she sits back on her heels, Daryl rests his hands on her hips and situates her against his center. He looks at her with serious eyes. "You still doin' okay? Not too sore?"

Beth smiles sweetly, and her cheeks brighten with the prettiest pink blush. "I'm sore, yeah. But it's the best kind 'a sore, you know? You ready for another round, Mr. Dixon?"

"Knock that shit off," he grouses and shoots up, grabbing her face in his hands. He swallows her squeal with a searing kiss and takes her over the edge yet again. 

Full bellies, easy breezy days, and silent nights (well, mostly silent) are hard to give up. They all wonder if they could make a home here. Desperate hearts and desperate plans. They talk it out. Decide there is no real way to fortify the area. The cabins are too spread out to defend. There is no protective wall and no way to build one. This place isn't made to last. It's day six, and they are ready to hit the road again. The deer jerky Merle and Carol made from the old buck Daryl bagged will last them a few days if they keep their daily rations low. 

It's time to move. Beth takes one last look at the little room she shared with Daryl. The place where she gave him that part of her that could only be given away once. She smiles and sighs. How crazy is it, she wonders, that this past year has been the very best year of her life? 

A familiar weight slides around her waist. "You ready," he whispers against her hair.

"Yeah… I just…" she shakes her head. 

"Yeah…" Daryl agrees. He kisses her temple and takes her hand. The join the others outside and follow Merle and Carol at the point, back into the woods.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! This is mostly filler, but we're coming to the end and I hate to let this one go. All comments are absolutely welcomed and appreciated!


	17. Trust Doesn't Come Easy

**Chpt 17: Trust Doesn't Come Easy**

They've been on the road a week. Daryl has attempted to hunt, but tracks are sparce. No water, no game. The few houses they come across are picked clean, offering nothing more than temporary shelter. They won't make it much longer like this. 

Daryl nudges Beth's hand. Points to the tree line on their left. She can't see what he sees, but she trusts his instincts. "We're goin' huntin'," he grouses, voice extra gravelly from disuse and lack of water. He whistles sharply from the rear and they all freeze. Even Judy seems to tense stretching her little head to see past Rick. Daryl pulls his crossbow from his back and jerks his chin toward the woods. Carol looks at Merle, but he's looking in the direction Daryl is heading.

He points to a thick canopy of trees off in the distance. Spins Carol so her back is against his chest. She looks down his arm like it’s a rifle. "See how much taller that line of trees is than the rest of 'em? How green they are? That swarm of gnats is headed that way too. See 'em?"

Carol nods. Now that he has pointed it out, she can see what he's saying, but she has no idea what it means. She looks over her shoulder at Merle. Silently asks him to explain. He's smiling so it must be good. 

"Water, darlin'," he half whispers as if saying it out loud might cause it to disappear. "Lil' brother found a water source. Which means we'll be eatin' and drinkin' good tonight."

Carol tries not to get too excited. Flashes Merle a hopeful little grin and looks back to the trees. She leans into him as he slips his arms around her waist. 

"We may as well pop a squat in that there shade, folks," Merle announces to the group. "Make ourselves comfortable. Beth and Daryl may be gone a minute."

They move silently through the ground cover. Daryl stops. Runs his fingers over the dirt. The ground is darker… is getting softer the further they move into the trees. Beth is crouched behind him. She points past him to a big oak a few more feet in. A fat grey squirrel is chattering away at an equally chunky friend of his on a branch above. Beth is watching the two of them fuss when the bolt nails one of them in the head and sends it spiraling to the forest floor. His friend barely has time to register that something is amiss before he joins him in the bed of leaves beneath the tree. Several more squirrels start to scatter. Apparently, Beth and Daryl have interrupted a town meeting. By the time Daryl is out of bolts, they have eight squirrels on their belts. They walk a little further and Beth sees what might have once been a walking trail. She taps him on the shoulder, and he nods. Of course, he has seen it too. They head down the path until the trees thin. Daryl reaches out and slows Beth with an arm across her chest. He gently ushers her behind him. Slows his pace. Bends his knees and makes himself smaller. Beth does the same and reaches forward. Plants her hand lightly on his shoulder. They move in tandem, pulling up short when a big red barn seemingly arises out of nowhere. They duck into thick, green cover and circle the barn. It's silent and appears to be uninhabited. They decide to get the others before attempting to clear it. They are both thinking about the barn full of walkers back at the farm. They can't take out that many on their own. And should they try and fail, they could be unwittingly setting a herd on their family waiting for them less than 300 yards back. 

They trek back to the road and grab the family. As a group, they return to the barn. They aren't exactly silent with that many feet on the path, but not quite loud enough to attract any unwanted company. "Daryl!" Beth whispers and grabs his arm. He sees it too. There is a case of water, still packaged in plastic, sitting in the dirt in front of the barn doors. That wasn't there before. _No way he would have missed that, right?_

Daryl sing songs the same whip-poor-will call Beth heard him use before to signal Merle. He and Rick move silently through the brush to Beth and Daryl. Abraham isn't far behind. Daryl points to the case of water. The three men look confused. "It wasn't there before," Beth whispers. Daryl flattens his hand and motions left, nodding to Rick and Merle. He motions right and nods at Abe. Indicates he and Beth will go with him. They are just fixing to disperse when a man stands up from behind a giant fallen log. His hands are up as if he is surrendering. 

"Please don’t shoot! I know you can see me. I can't see you yet, but I know you're there. I mean you no harm."

Daryl immediately starts to scan the tree tops for any sign of snipers. He is sure there are no trip wires or traps on the ground. There are seventeen of them, but not all of them are comfortable trekking through the woods. Surely one of them would have gotten themselves snagged up if there were any threats.

He turns his attention back to the man standing by the case of water. He looks clean and healthy. His clothes don’t look like they could stand on their own from caked on mud and walker goo. The opposite really. He could be on his way to the mall in another lifetime. 

"I've been following you," the man says. "But not in a creeper sort 'a way," he quickly adds. "I was trying to figure out what kind of people you are. You look like a family… You also look hungry… and thirsty. I don’t have much food with me, but I have this case of water. It's yours if you want it…" 

He is still holding his hands up, just not high and over his head like before. Nobody from the group says a word. The man seems more embarrassed than scared. Like a comedian who isn’t getting the laughs rather than a man with better than 15 weapons pointed at his heart. If he's been watching them, he knows they are all armed.

"My name is Aaron by the way. You're probably wondering what I'm doing out here with a case of water. It's not a big mystery really. I'm happy to tell you everything if you'll just…"

Rick grabs him from behind. Plants his gun firmly against Aaron's temple. Spins him to face away from the family. "The rest of ya' come on out!," Rick yells at the trees in front of them. "Show yourself, and I won’t hurt him!" Aaron isn’t resisting, but his hands are over his head again.

"There's no one out there," he says as calmly as he can. "Well, that's not entirely true. My… Um… Eric, my friend is in the RV. It's parked about a mile on the other side of those trees. He twisted his ankle so..."

"Shut up!" Rick snaps and hears Aaron's teeth clank together when he does just that. "The rest of your people… they in the barn," Rick asks and swings Aaron back to face the barn doors.

"I honestly have no idea what's inside that barn. But, no, to answer your question. Eric is my only people, and he's in the RV… like I said… His ankle, remember?"

This guy is acting more like a neighbor than a stranger with a gun pointed at his head. Abraham and Merle step from the small group of trees across from the barn. The same trees Rick was talking to a few minutes ago.

"Either this guy is travelin' with a camouflaged platoon of Army Rangers or he really is on his own. There ain't a hair outta' place in there," Abe says and points over his shoulder. 

Rick's eyes dance around their surroundings. Beth and Daryl emerge from the trees, but the rest of the family stays hidden for now. Rick and Daryl seem to come to a simultaneous decision. Daryl nods and Rick speaks up.

"Alright," he hollers. "Let's check the barn. Me and him will go in first."

One by one, the family emerges from the cover of the woods. They spread out behind Rick in rows. On a countdown from three, Merle and Abraham pull the barn doors apart. Rick tenses, expecting the worst. Aaron seems perfectly relaxed in his hold. He shakes his hands like they're pom-poms. "Told ya'. It's just me and Eric, but he's…"

"back at the RV," Rick repeats. "You said that."

Aaron shrugs just to rub it in. Merle and Abraham bang on the walls, and they all wait for the inevitable groan, but it doesn’t come. Rick edges to the threshold, Aaron still in his grip. 

"There's a flashlight in my backpack," Aaron offers. "You're welcome to it."

Rick lets go of Aaron and shoves him roughly to the ground. He taps the back of Aaron's head with the barrel of his gun and yanks the backpack to the ground. "Daryl! He says there's a flashlight in there."

Daryl lowers his bow and edges forward toward the bag with Beth in tow. He picks it up, hands it to Beth and aims his bow once again at the darkness inside the barn. Beth finds the flashlight and passes it to Rick. She continues to rummage through the bag and finds a few granola bars, a pack of gum, two individual cups of apple sauce, a handgun, a roadmap of Virginia, and a lightweight thermos. She pulls the strap over her shoulder and she and Daryl step away. Rick and Aaron edge toward the darkness. Rick tosses the flashlight to Abe and the three men breach the barn. Abraham makes a quick sweep with the light. Seeing no immediate threats, he makes a slower more thorough inspection. It's clean.

The family trickles into the barn. It's a hay barn, tall and open. Glenn picks up the case of water and sets it down in the dirt in front of him. Rick forces Aaron back to his knees and sits down cross legged to face him. The family ends up in a circle around Aaron. The sound of rattling plastic breaks the tense silence. Glenn opens one of the water bottles. Goes to take a drink when Abe's big mitt smacks it out of his hand.

"You crazy? No tellin' what's in that water." 

"It's just water," Aaron says. "Packaged before the turn."

Sixteen pair of eyes are bouncing back and forth between Aaron and each other. Aaron looks amused. "Here," he offers. "Toss any bottle. You pick. I'll drink the whole thing."

Glenn studies the case of water like one of the bottles contains the cure. He pulls one from the center of the package and looks at Aaron. Aaron smiles back and holds his hands open to catch it. "Nope," Abe's baritone sings. "Not that one, muchacho. One of these," he says and points to the middle bottles on the outside rolls.

Glenn looks at Abe curiously. "Why those?"

"Didn't you ever see one of them apocalypse movies? People get all stingy and selfish. Grab the first thing they can get their hands on, ever'body else be damned. Those two bottles are the easiest to get to. Toss 'im that other one."

Glenn shakes his head at Abe's nonsense and carries the bottle to Aaron. Arron thanks him politely and twists the cap. He gulps the water down, pausing only to take a breath or two. "Guess I was more thirsty than I thought," he says and swipes at his chin. "See, all good. There's nothing in those bottles but…" Suddenly, Aaron's eyes go wide, and he grabs his throat like he is choking. He sticks his tongue out and flops his head to the side dramatically. Everyone tenses, but nobody says a word. Aaron's shoulders start to shake, and he sits back up casually. "Just kidding, folks. I'm fine. And the water is delicious."

"What the hell, man!" Abe yells. 

Then Merle burst out laughing. It’s a loud, barking laugh that causes everyone to jump. "You're either the dumbest sum'bitch on the planet or damn near the smartest. I ain't decided yet, but I do think I like ya'. Toss me one 'a them bottles there Short Round. Ol' Merle's damn thirsty." Carol pops him on the bicep and shoots him a look. Merle clears his throat and looks at Glenn in all seriousness. "I mean, toss me one 'a them bottles there, brother Glenn… please."

Glenn tosses it a little harder than necessary, but it's on target and Merle snags the bottle without comment. Chugs the whole thing in one long gulp. Everyone watches to see if Merle is gonna' fall over dead. Nope, no such luck, Glenn thinks and starts pulling bottles from the package and passing them around.

"I found two cups of Mott's applesauce in his backpack. You think it’s alright to give 'em ta' Judith," Beth asks Rick. Rick eyes Aaron. There is something in the man's gentle smile that pushes Rick to trust him. He nods and Beth walks the cups over to Michonne. Sits cross-legged next to her and Judy and opens the applesauce. Judy gets one taste and her little arms start flapping for more. For the first time in a week, everyone smiles. Even Eugene.

Aaron clears his throat. "I'm a recruiter for my community. I look for good people. People with character and invite them back to Alexandria. Alexandria is a self-sustaining neighborhood of sorts. We have running water, solar power, provisions. It's completely surrounded by protective walls. We've been thriving since the turn, but we haven't found many people in the last year. My job is to convince you to come home with me. To introduce you to the community. I don't decide who stays, but from what I've seen, I think you all could be valuable members."

"Who decides?"

"Deanna is in charge. She will meet with each of you individually. Discuss things with a community board of leaders and make decisions from there."

"We're a package deal," Rick says. "All or nothin'"

"Yeah, I figured as much. It's one of the reasons I'm offering for you to come with me."

The council talks it over then Rick calls the rest of the family together. Can't be any harm in checking the place out they decide. Since the beginning, things have never felt this desperate. They need a community. They need walls. They need food and water. Everyone agrees it's worth a shot. They tell Aaron they will go with him. Aaron smiles and claps his hands together. Says he's so happy they're gonna' give it a shot. And oddly enough, Daryl doesn't hate the idea. There are no warning bells signaling retreat. He's either too tired and too hungry to notice or maybe, just maybe, they'll finally land on their feet again. At least for a little while.

**A/N: So this chapter was almost (or maybe entirely) boring to me, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how to spruse it up. I think we have two chapters left. I will get those done ASAP! Thanks for reading!**


	18. Settling In

Aaron walks them through the big metal gates into a world they thought had long been obliterated. It's surreal and unimaginable and so completely foreign to Daryl. He has never known anything like this, not before or after the turn. The others stumble past him with their mouths agape, in awe that something like this still exists. Beth threads her fingers through his and gives him a little tug. His eyes slide to hers and her eyebrows lift, asking him if he is ready. He nods, and they fall in line with the others.

The family meanders through the picturesque streets while Aaron gives them the grand tour. They stop at the medical clinic to drop Eric, Aaron's husband as it turns out, to have that ankle looked at. A clinic… unbelievable. Aaron continues with the tour and explains a little about the supply store and the interviews they will be doing with Deanna. Daryl doesn’t hear a word of it. He is too busy studying the structure of the wall that surrounds the community. Committing the layout to memory in case they need to hide or escape, mindful of the people on their porches waving and smiling. They stop in front of a storybook house in the cul-de-sac nearest the front gate. Aaron says this is where Deanna and Reg live. Where the interviews will be conducted. A petite woman and a tall, lanky man meet Aaron on the front porch. The woman, Deanna, welcomes them from her top step. Beth and Daryl are still in the back of the group. Daryl's hand is opening and closing into a fist at his side. Beth squeezes his other hand, and he takes a deep breath. Settles, but only by a degree.

Deanna and Reg welcome them with easy smiles and pretty words. They walk with Aaron and the group to the armory. The family will have to relinquish their weapons for now with the promise of their return once the interviews are done and decisions are made. Daryl doesn't argue when Rick hands over his guns, but he sure as hell doesn't like it. Looks physically ill at having to part with his crossbow. Beth doesn't offer up her buck knife and nobody asks her too. They underestimate her… Good. 

Their tour concludes in front of three empty houses situated in a finely manicured row. They split into three groups, hypothetically, but end up all in one house by the end of the night. It feels like it did when they were on the road all those months ago. Daryl and Beth take the first watch of the evening. Pull two oversized porch chairs together by the front door. Abe and Rosita are on watch in the back.

Beth slides into Daryl's lap. Plays with his fingers the way she always does, and he relaxes. Bends his head left to right releasing the pressure between the vertebrae.

"What are ya' thinkin' about, babe?" Beth whispers.

"Iunno," he mumbles and shrugs.

"Don’t give me that, Daryl Dixon. I wanna' know what you're thinkin'."

"I think this place is too good to be true."

"Could be," she says, but her tone tells him she's not in full agreement.

"What? You thinkin' somethin' differ'nt?"

"I'm thinkin' I'd like to give it a shot. I'm tired of runnin', Daryl. I'm ready to build a life… somethin' lastin'. And, I wanna' build it with you. This seems as good a place as any ta' start. Not like we have a lot of options, you know?"

He's chewing on the inside of his lip. Knows he'll do anything Beth wants. "Just can't let our guard down. Worse thing we can do is forget what it's really like out there."

Beth nods and cradles his face in her palms. He leans into her touch, turns his head and kisses her wrist. "We won't forget," she says and presses her lips soundly to his. Settles back against him, and they face the night, lit by streetlights of all things, and it passes quietly.

It's Day 2 and Deanna wants to get right to the interviews. Beth and Daryl are the last two to go. "Let me go first," Beth says when it is just the two of them left. Daryl nods, but a worried scowl crosses his face. Beth uses her thumbs to smooth the deep crinkles away. "The interviews have been quick. I won't be gone long," she promises. Kisses his forehead and trots up the steps, leaving Daryl to pace in the street.

"Hello, Beth. I'm glad you’re here," Deanna says and leads her to the living room. She has a chair parked in front of the fireplace on the outside wall between two windows. There is a camera set up in front of the couch. Deanna motions for Beth to have a seat. Beth smiles and balances her bottom on the edge of the chair. It's a curious conundrum reconciling this house and this community with the world she has been existing in for the last two years. The idea of electricity and running water, shelter and safety are so foreign, yet innately familiar, it's enough to give her mental whiplash. 

"You're Maggie's sister, correct?"

Beth tears her eyes from the shelves lined with books at Deanna's voice. "What?"

"I said, 'you're Maggie's sister'."

"That's right." She tries to keep her eyes on Deanna, but the books keep stealing her attention.

"You like to read?"

"Yes… I mean, I used to… before."

"You're welcome to any of these books, any time."

Beth's eyebrow arches at the thought of relaxing with a book. Is that what they do here? 

"I'm told Rick's baby, Judith, is particularly fond of you?"

"I took care of her when we lived in the prison. Her mama died. We all take care of her now."

"If things work out, and you end up staying, do you think you would like to work with the children here?"

Beth hesitates. She doesn't want to be rude, but she most definitely does not want to work with the kids here. After being on the road with Daryl… after all she has seen and done… she knows she lacks the patience to take on that roll. "Well, you see, I also helped my dad in the infirmary at the prison. He was a vet. I used to work for him. Grew up on a farm. I'm good with my hands. Learned a lot from my dad. Even delivered Judith when she was born. I think I'd be of better service in the medical clinic. Or in the garden. Or both, if you have an opening." The Beth she once knew would have never suggested any job other than the one she was offered. She likes this new Beth. The one that stands up for herself, for her family, for what is right and decent. The Beth that is brave and self-confident. The Beth that loves Daryl and their life together. 

Deanna smiles kindly, but Beth can see the disappointment in her eyes. "Good to know, Beth. I appreciate your honesty. I couldn't help but notice your exchange out there with, uh, Mr. Dixon, correct?"

"You should call him Daryl. He hates being called Mr. Dixon," she says with a quiet laugh.

"I'll keep that in mind," Deanna replies amicably. "The two of you are close?"

Beth hesitates again. She wants to shout it from the rooftops. Let everybody here know that Daryl is hers and she is his, but she isn't sure how much she _should_ let these folks know, at least for now. She decides to keep it simple and a little vague. "Yes, we escaped the prison together when it was overrun. We take care of each other. Everyone in our family takes care of each other."

Deanna's knowing smile tells Beth that she may as well have gone ahead and shouted it from the rooftops, but Deanna doesn't call her on it.

"Anything else you think I should know about you? Anything you would like to share?"

"I don't think so, but thank you."

"Well, it was very nice to meet you, Beth. Oh! One more thing. How old are you?"

"Does that even matter anymore?" She isn’t trying to be sassy, but the last two years have aged her well beyond the 365 days that defined each one of those years.

"Not out there, no, I suppose not. But here, inside these walls, birthdays and anniversaries, milestones that come with age, those things are all still celebrated for what they represent."

Beth nods her understanding. These people really have no idea what it's like out there. Daryl wasn't kidding when he said they can't let their guard down. She worries that, should a threat arise, she and her family are likely the only things standing between life and death for the people of this community.

"Anything else?" Beth asks.

"No," Deanna says with a pleasant enough smile. "I think that's everything."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure! What is it?"

"If you decide to let us stay. And we decide that it's right for us to join your community, will we be allowed to come and go as we please or do we need permission? I'm askin' because me and Daryl like to hunt. We usually leave early in the morning, and we don’t come back until we have something to show for it. I don’t mean to be rude, but we don’t always plan ahead. Daryl sometimes just wakes up knowing it's a good day to hunt. Might make askin' for permission a little difficult."

"You would be welcome to come and go as you please, of course."

Beth nods and thanks Deanna for her hospitality. On her way to the front door, she sees a box piano she must have missed on her way in. Deanna notices the pause in her step. "Do you play?"

"Yeah… At least I used to. It’s been a while."

"Well, I would love to hear you play sometime. It's my hope that you can make time for those things you left behind like reading for pleasure and making music. I'm told you have a lovely singing voice."

Beth smiles, but she doesn’t answer. 

Daryl is waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He looks her over, head to toe, like maybe Deanna tried to eat her or something while she was in the house. Beth assures him that she is perfectly fine and tells him she'll wait for him right here. 

"Hello, Daryl. I'm Deanna. Beth said I should call you Daryl rather than Mr. Dixon."

Daryl hums his answer. He is pacing around the living room like he's scavenging the place. He touches the decorative stones in the plate on the coffee table. Runs his fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves. Picks up the knick-knacks and tosses them around, feels the weight in his hands. He is like a caged lion waiting to be released into the wild.

"Would you like to have a seat," Deanna says and holds her hand out to the chair in front of the camera.

"You recordin' this?"

"I am. I have everyone's initial interview recorded.

"Why?"

"Oh, posterity, I guess. Do you mind?"

He grunts, and Deanna takes that as permission to proceed.

Daryl sits down on the edge of the chair, much like Beth did. Rests his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together to keep them still. His eyes, however, are in constant motion, landing on first one thing then another around the room.

"I understand that you are a skilled hunter and tracker. You use a bow? To hunt?"

Daryl lurches forward and grabs a handful of the decorative stones to roll around in his hands. Deanna isn't sure he even realizes he's done it.

"Crossbow"

"I'll have to learn the difference. You and Rick have been together from the beginning?"

"Pretty much."

He is up again, pacing back and forth in front of her from one side of the room to the other. He stops and draws the gauzy curtain to the side. His eyes land on Beth and he eases down. Leans against the window, ears on Deanna, eyes on Beth.

Deanna adjusts the camera, assumes this is where he will stay, at least for a bit.

"You two are close?"

"Brothers"

"I see. Can you see yourself settling down here in our community? See yourself as a contributing member?"

"If that's what the family wants, then yeah."

"Any job you would be particularly interested in having?"

"Could help with security, I suppose. Still wanna' hunt."

"Beth said the same thing, about the hunting, I mean." That earns her a quick glance. "I told her that should be fine. Daryl, do you think you could teach the people here how better to survive if, heaven forbid, this community was ever under attack or overrun?"

"Yeah, I could do that."

"Good. Can I ask you a few personal questions?"

Daryl drops the curtain and turns to face Deanna. Narrows his eyes at the petite leader. 

"Nothing too personal, I promise," she says and holds her hand out toward the chair again.

Daryl sits, but he clearly isn’t happy about it. Deanna adjusts the camera again, before continuing. "You and Merle are blood brothers. He said the two of you grew up rough."

"Yeah… so?"

"So, I want to assure you that, should you end up staying, you will be as much a part of this community as anyone else. Everyone here has a story, a beginning that in some way shaped who they are now and how they have survived, but a beginning is just that… a starting point. It's not the complete story. I want everyone here to feel equally at home."

Daryl rolls that around in his head. Thinks he gets what she's saying, but he isn't sure how to respond.

Deanna smiles patiently. "There's no judgement here, Daryl. We are all in this together. It’s the only way we can all survive."

Daryl nods and makes his way back over to the window.

"Judging by what I saw outside, you and Beth have a special relationship?"

Daryl tenses. Drops the curtain and turns back to face Deanna. She is again adjusting the camera. He chews on his thumb cuticle for a second before surprising her with his answer. "She means everyhthin' to me. Ain't goin' nowhere without her."

A genuine smile graces Deanna's face. It’s warm and tender, and it helps Daryl relax. He reaches over to the coffee table and drops all the stones back into the pretty little tray where he found them. "She's a lovely girl. I'm glad you two have each other."

"Yeah." 

Deanna can tell Daryl has shared all he is willing to share for now. "Thank you, Daryl. I appreciate you coming to talk with me." 

"We good?" 

"Yes, I think we're good."

Weeks pass and the family starts to spread out among the three houses. One of the houses has a small upstairs apartment over a detached garage. Daryl and Beth claim that space for themselves. Aaron shows Daryl the motorcycle and all the loose parts in his garage. Tells Daryl he is welcome to all of it. Beth spends her mornings with Daryl working on the bike. Her afternoons are spent at the medical clinic helping Dr Denise and learning from the medical text books. Denise was finishing med school when the world fell apart. She is eager to share what she learned with Beth, and Beth soaks it up like a sponge.

Daryl spends his afternoons on the wall. Securing weak spots. Patrolling. He and Beth hunt early in the mornings at least once a week, sometimes twice. Carol brought the community together for a picnic on their block when Beth and Daryl came strolling through the gate with a buck hooked around Daryl's neck. The people here are becoming more and more comfortable with the family. More comfortable than Daryl is with Carol's suburban wardrobe, but whatever… They all begin to plant roots, some run deeper than others, but they all seem to be considering a future here in Alexandria.

They have been in Alexandria for three months when Daryl gets the motorcycle to run. He and Beth take it for a spin around the community before deciding to take it beyond the gates. Aaron has talked to him about becoming a recruiter. Says Beth is welcome as well. Beth decides to stay and work at the clinic when Aaron and Daryl take day trips to scout, but she will always go with them if they plan on being gone overnight.

Beth is singing in the shower late one evening when Daryl gets home from patrol. He leans against the door frame and listens to her sweet voice, lets it settle into his bones. When she quits singing and starts humming instead, he knocks his knuckles against the counter top and tells her he's home. She sticks her wet head around the corner of the walk-in shower and grins at him. "How was yer day?"

"Good. Yer's?"

"Better now that you're home." She flicks a handful of water at him and giggles when he ducks. "You look like you could use a shower, Mr. Dixon. Wanna' join me?"

Well, that's somethin' new. Beth reaches a hand out to him, and he starts peeling his clothes off on the way over to her. It's a tight fit, but they make it work. It's not like they need any space between them, anyway. Beth pulls him under the spray and grabs the soap. Gets to work cleaning his shoulders, his arms, and his back. Slides her fingers down to his waist and palms his butt cheeks. He can feel her pert little breasts pressing into his back as she leans into him. He shivers when she squats down behind him and runs hands slick with soap up and down his legs. When she stands back up, he spins around and traps her between him and the wall. She hisses when her back meets the cold tile, and arches into him. Daryl is on her like a predator on prey. Grabs the back of her thighs and drags her to his center. He spins again and presses her into the wall beneath the spray. This time the tile is warm, and she uses it as leverage. Locks her ankles at Daryl's back and lifts her hips so he can find his way in. There is nothing innocent or gentle when they come together this time. Something about being under the water together, slick and wet, ramps up the intensity. Neither of them is quiet as they barrel toward that sweet release. Beth calls his name again and again. Scrapes her nails across his wet scalp. Falls apart when his tongue swirls around her taunt nipple. Daryl is only a second behind, pulling out just in time to send his release down the drain with the water. They are both panting as Beth collapses forward on his shoulder still wrapped around him under the spray.

The water begins to cool, and Beth briefly wonders how long they've been in there. Long enough for her fingers to prune she notices. Daryl sets her down on shaky legs and turns the water off. He reaches for one of the towels and runs it over her hair. Dries her off and does the same for himself. Wraps the towel around his waist. Beth slips on her tiny little sleep shorts and loose tank. Rolls to her toes and kisses Daryl lightly on the lips. "Welcome home, Mr. Dixon." He barks a laugh, and Beth sees a flash of teeth when he settles that laugh into a smile. 

" _You're one lucky sum'bitch_ ," he thinks to himself. And wonders how he ever survived without her


	19. Not a Minute More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to remove Chpt 19 and re-post. There was a text error. Sorry!!

Beth finds Daryl on their little deck. Pauses when she sees him. "Were we supposed to dress up tonight?"

"Why ya' say that," he asks… But he's fully aware of exactly what she's talking about.

" 'Cause you're wearin' your "good" jeans," she air-quotes with a sweet natured giggle. Truth is, the way he looks leaning against the railing with all that casual confidence he exudes, has her contemplating skipping dinner altogether. Black jeans, steel-gray fitted button down, sleeves rolled up to expose tan muscular forearms… 

"Took a shower when I got home. Thought I'd put on somethin' clean for dinner. Eric's kind enough to cook, so I thought…" he shrugs the rest of his answer.

"Well, I like it, Mr. Dixon. You look good enough ta' eat."

"Ain't got time fer that right now, girl" he says with a smirk, and Beth slaps him playfully on the arm. "You 'bout ready ta' go?"

"Well I can't go lookin' like this, now can I? Not when you look like that, anyway. Give me 10 minutes. I'll be ready."

"Hmmmm"

Twenty minutes later, Beth finds Daryl patiently waiting in the same spot on the deck. She is wearing a pretty, knee-length, light-pink sundress dotted with tiny white flowers and a white cardigan. Her hair is down and mostly loose, except for two small braids that frame her face and disappear into a little messy knot at the crown of her head. Daryl imagines her standing on the front porch at the farm, leaning against the post, watching the sun set. Prettiest damn thing he's ever seen. "Beautiful," he says and kisses her on the forehead. Takes her hand and spins her toward the stairs.

Aaron and Eric open the door rather dramatically. They're both all smiles, practically giddy, when Aaron makes a sweeping gesture beckoning Beth and Daryl through the front door. Beth giggles and asks if they've already dipped into the wine. 

It's spaghetti and wine Wednesday. Beth and Daryl always eat with Aaron and Eric on Wednesdays. Tonight, the dessert is oatmeal and carrot cookies with icing. Not too bad considering a little less than a year ago, Beth and Daryl couldn't even count on a daily meal. They've come a long way in the last eight months.

The conversation is light and happy. Daryl doesn't say too much. No different than any other night, except Beth keeps catching him looking at her. Watching her interact with their two closest friends. He seems content, and his mood is downright jovial, so Beth lets it go for now. Eric announces, "it’s the boys' turn to clear the table," so he and Beth retire to the living room. Aaron and Daryl are standing at the sink washing the dishes when Aaron bumps Daryl's shoulder and leans in close. Whispers, "Did ya' bring it with ya'?"

"Yeah, it's in my pocket."

"You gonna' ask her on the way home?"

"Thought I'd take her for a walk down by the pond. Ask over there."

"Per~fect," he sing-songs. "You should do it at the gazebo."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinkin'."

"You nervous?"

"Naw… She'll say 'yes'... I mean, she will… right?"

"You bet she will. I'm so happy for you Daryl. You two were made for each other."

"Yeah," Daryl says and looks over his shoulder at Beth. "Don’t think I could survive without her."

They finish up the dishes, and Daryl plops down on the sofa next to Beth. Throws his arm over her shoulders and drops a soft kiss to her temple. Beth pulls her bare feet up beneath her and folds her knees across Daryl's thigh. Daryl thinks about how comfortable he has become with touch. Especially when it's Beth doing the touching. She's the one that taught him hands were not meant to cause pain. God gave us hands to soothe, to comfort, and to love.

"You two feel like a game of cards," Aaron asks around an overly exaggerated yawn.

"I don’t know, honey," Eric says. "It's getting kind of late. Beth and Daryl might need to get home before too long."

They usually don't leave until closer to 9:00. Beth figures it's maybe only 7:00 or so, but she recognizes a hint when she hears one. "We probably should get goin'. It's already dark outside."

Daryl agrees and pops up off the couch like he's been pinched. Takes Beth by the hand and navigates her to the door.

"Sure is a pretty night," Eric says when they all make it to the front porch.

"Nice night for a walk!" Aaron comments enthusiastically. "You two have a good rest of your evening. We'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Beth kisses them each on the cheek, and she and Daryl head down the steps. When they make it to the street, Beth leans in close to Daryl. "What the heck was that all about?"

"Iunno," Daryl says with a shrug and pulls Beth along with him in the opposite direction of their home.

"Where we goin'?"

Daryl shrugs again. "Eric's right. Nice night for a walk."

Beth smiles at that and lets Daryl lead her in no particular direction.

The pond at the center of the community has a fountain in the deeper part that keeps the water from becoming stagnant. Like everything else here, it is powered by solar energy. Daryl had never seen anything like it. To be honest, he had never seen anything like this community, not up close and personal anyway. Not before the turn nor after. The fountain keeps the water moving and the algae at a minimum. Daryl discovered, quite by accident (but no one needs to know), that bluegill and bass enjoy the fountain as much as the Alexandrians. Turns out the fish are attracted to the oxygen and the circular current produced by the fountain's spray. He couldn’t believe it when he first found out the pretty pond was actually stocked with largemouth bass and bluegill. Seemed too good to be true.

There is a big, circular gazebo in the middle of the pond that you can reach from either side by a long wooden walkway. Daryl first thought it looked like a waste of timber, but the longer he lives here, the more he appreciates it for what it is… A peaceful spot that's meant to be enjoyed. He and Beth have spent many early mornings with their bare feet hanging off that wooden walkway casting their lines.

Daryl thinks about how much his life has changed in the last two years. Oddly enough, it's not the walker apocalypse that stands out as the biggest change. His life was already a daily battle. He just became more useful once the turn happened. The thing that sticks out the most in his mind is, of course, Beth. For him, there is life before Beth, a life full of pain and constant drifting, and then there is life with Beth, a life full of family, purpose, and love. It's a damn mystery to him how he ever ended up where he is now.

"Ya' happy, Beth?"

"Yes, are you?"

"Never thought I could be this happy. Still can't believe ya' chose me."

"We chose each other. I love you, Daryl," she says and lays her head against his bicep. "Don't ever doubt that."

They walk a little further in silence. Beth can tell he has more to say, but she doesn't push. He'll tell her when he's ready. She trusts that about him. Sure enough, he clears his throat and unburdens his mind. "When we were hold up in that deer stand… right after we burned down that damn shack… We were all curled up together, hungry, and so fuckin' tired." He shakes his head against the overwhelming helplessness that he had felt back then. Angles them toward the wooden walkway at the pond, fingers tangled up with Beth's. "You were already asleep. Ya' looked so peaceful… like ya' didn't have a care in the world. Figured it had somethin' ta' do with all that faith you were always spoutin' off about. Got me ta' thinkin'… so I prayed. I closed my eyes and I prayed. I thanked God for you… I asked him ta' give me the strength and the smarts to keep ya' safe. Asked Him to help us find the others too. Then… I don't know… don't usually ask for nothin', but I must 'a been on a roll. I asked him to help us find a place where we could build a life together, ya' know? Some place safe and clean and pretty. Guess yer' rubbin' off on me, girl, 'cause a part of me wadn't all that surprised when I saw the houses… that pond."

"That's faith, Daryl. For sure."

"Yeah… and you." Daryl walks over to the railing at the center of the pond. Pulls Beth in front of him and settles her back against his chest. She leans against him and nestles her head in the bend of his neck the way she always does. It's comfortable and all together overwhelming at the same time.

"I love it here," she whispers, "but I love you more. If this place falls, as long as I'm with you, I'm home. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I love ya' more 'n anything, sweetheart… And I been thinkin'. I wanna' do right by ya', Beth. I wanna' marry ya'," he says, and Beth can feel the weight of his words in her chest. As she goes to turn, a box appears in her line of sight, wavy in her teary-eyed vision. "Whata' ya' say?"

Beth reaches for the blue, velvet box cupped in Daryl's hands. Inside there are two matching rings, each with three braided cords of white gold. Beth's fingers cover her trembling lip. "Daryl," she breathes on a choked whisper.

"Reminded me 'a you and that damn sweet little braid ya' always wearin'," he says as his nose ghosts across one of the braids at her crown.

Beth swipes at the tears freely flowing down her cheeks. "Where did ya'… I mean, when… how," she asks as she pulls the box to her chest and looks over her shoulder to find his eyes.

"When we were in Atlanta gettin' Carol back. Saw a store down by the hospital. Me and Merle went back while you was catchin' up with Maggie."

"Atlanta? Daryl, that was like a year ago," she says with something akin to awe in her voice.

"Guess I been thinkin' on it for a while now." His eyes are locked on hers, so full of love and hope, it fills her to overflowing.

Beth tucks her lip between her teeth and gives him the sweetest smile he's ever seen. "I wanna' be your wife, Daryl Dixon."

"Yeah?"

Beth nods emphatically and wraps her arms around his neck. "Yeah," she says and settles her lips against his. When they break apart, Daryl immediately recognizes that mischievous glint in her eye. The one that makes his brain say, "oh, shit," and his heart say, "hell, yeah!" 

"What are you thinkin', Beth?"

"I'm thinkin' I don't wanna' wait a minute more, Mr. Dixon. I wanna' be your wife now… tonight."

Like always, Daryl is putty in her hands. "Let's go find the preacher man."

"Really!?! Tonight?"

"Hell, yeah, girl! I didn't put my good jeans on fer nothin'."

Beth hops up and down on her toes. Tells him she loves him, loves him, loves him, and peppers his mouth with kisses. Daryl is feeling half giddy himself when Beth grabs his hand and pulls him with her at a trot. Father Gabriel is all smiles when he answers the door. Tells them in his calm, quiet voice he will meet them at the pond in 20 minutes. They find Maggie and Glenn next. Maggie squeals and pulls Beth into a big hug. Hugs Daryl too, maybe a little tighter than he is comfortable with but, "what the hell," he thinks, "I'm getting' married!" Maggie says something about getting busy planning a wedding, but Beth shakes her head. Tells her and Glenn to get dressed and meet them on this side of the pond in 30 minutes. 

They sprint next door, hand in hand, to tell Merle and Carol. Merle whoops at the top of his lungs and swings Beth around in a big circle. Claps a hand on Daryl's shoulder and says, "Ya' done good, Lil' Brother. Blondie here is one of a kind... and so are you. Ya' deserve ta' be happy. Ya' both do". 

Carol has her arm around Beth's shoulder. Squeezes her tight when the brothers step out of their hug, both men swiping at their eyes. Carol says she will let the rest of the family know and shooshes them off to get ready for their wedding. Rick and Michonne are on guard duty at the gate. Merle tells them with a wink, he'll call in a favor or two and get their shifts covered. Beth and Daryl circle back to Aaron and Eric's. The door flies open before they make it all the way up the stairs to the porch. There are more quick hugs before Beth and Daryl are finally heading back toward the pond. 

Daryl stops when they reach the foot trail leading to the edge of the pond. He drops Beth's hand, and tells her to "hang on a sec," while he inspects the colorful overgrowth of wildflowers that paint the hill. Beth's heart fills to bursting as she watches him carefully pick a bouquet of Goldenrods, pink Nerine Lilies, and Wild Baby's Breath. He carefully bunches them together, blending and arranging the blooms until he is satisfied with the bunch. He pulls out his knife and trims the stems. Ties them up neatly with a long piece of twine he borrowed from Aaron. It's the most beautiful bouquet Beth can ever remember seeing. She's crying again when Daryl shyly presents them to her.

Father Gabriel is waiting at the foot of the wooden walkway with a genuine smile when they arrive. Together the three of them make their way to the gazebo in the center of the pond. The moon is nearly full, set high in a black sky clear of clouds. There is just enough light from the moon to streak the pond and highlight the ripples from the fountain. The solar lamps that line the gazebo and its walkway bounce off the water and illuminate the whole thing from above and below as if God himself hung tea lights just for this occasion. Father Gabriel asks them a few personal details and gathers their preferences for the ceremony. But it isn't long before their family starts to gather along the walkway, keeping at a distance for now.

"You ready," Father Gabriel asks.

Daryl lifts their tangled fingers and places a soft kiss on the back of Beth's hand. "We're ready."

They take their place on one side of the gazebo while Father Gabriel beckons their family and friends to join them. Their smiling faces fill in the space behind the bride and groom. Rick and Michonne, Carl, Judith, and Noah sit on the floor while Maggie and Glenn and Carol and Merle stand in the back on the wooden bench next to the rail with an unimpeded view. The others are situated in the in-between, some spilling out onto the walkway on either side. It took some doing, but everyone is here including Dr. Denise, Reg and Deanna, and a couple of Daryl's buddies from patrol.

Father Gabriel garners everyone's attention and welcomes them to the gathering. Beth slides her hand beneath Daryl's bicep and together they turn to face the preacher man. "First, thank you for being here. This long awaited yet spontaneous union is the most pleasant of surprises. Tonight, on this picture-perfect evening, the promises of two people as much in love as I have ever witnessed, become a permanent bond. Best friends are united as husband and wife in the eyes of God and with the blessing of every single person who loves them. This evening is not about the words spoken or the vows exchanged between Daryl and Beth. This evening is entirely about the love story that is being uniquely written by the two of them. 

I asked Daryl and Beth, not 10 minutes ago, to give me some words to describe their love. This is the list. Love is genuine, honest and open, compassionate and kind, gentle, respectful, attentive, passionate and blind. Love is hope, forgiveness, protection, trust, and faith. It can't be delineated by space or time because it is all encompassing and goes on forever. Reading through the list, I would say they nailed it. Simply put, as Paul writes in his letter to the Corinthians, love bears all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Love never fails. Love never dies. 

It is obvious Daryl and Beth love each other clear down to their bones. It is evident in every look, in every touch, in every _grunt_ and in every smile when they are together. It is important too, to recognize they also love one another as friends, best friends. Their love, their deep seeded friendship and the love and support of friends and family, will sustain them as they continue their journey together."

Father Gabriel nods to Daryl and Beth, and they turn to face each other. Their hands automatically join across the narrow expanse between them. "Daryl Wayne Dixon, do you take Elizabeth Leigh Greene to be your wife?"

"Yeah… yeah, I do," he says with a nod, eyes locked on Beth's. 

"Do you promise to love her, protect her, care for her, and walk through life side by side with her until the Lord decides to call one of you home?"

"Yeah, 'course I do."

Beth echoes Daryl's promises, bouncing up and down excitedly on her toes. "Yes, yes I do," she says with the biggest, most beautiful smile painted across her face. They place the braided circles on each other's fingers. Father Gabriel calls the rings a symbol of their love, a circle of braided gold with no beginning and no end. As soon as the rings are on, Daryl leans in and kisses his bride, not bothering to wait for Father Gabriel to give him the signal. Everyone chuckles when Gabriel clears his throat theatrically and the two lovebirds finally part lips.

"Daryl… Beth… It is my honor and privilege to pronounce you husband and wife. You want to kiss her again?"

Daryl grunts at the preacher man and sends him a less than lethal glare. Beth giggles and Daryl can't help the genuine smile that spreads across his face. He takes Father Gabriel up on his offer and wraps Beth up in a sweet lingering kiss. Everyone is clapping and cheering and wiping wayward tears from their cheeks. Daryl takes the opportunity to kiss his wife again.

Rick is the first to make it to the newlyweds. He wraps him in a hug. Says, "I'm happy for ya', brother. You deserve this. Ya' both do." He kisses Beth's cheek and swipes at another tear. Once Beth and Daryl make it through the crowd, they are just about to wave goodbye when Beth hollers for Merle and Rick. She pulls a couple of blooms of each color from her bouquet and hands them to Daryl. "Hold on ta' these for me? I wanna' wrap 'em in wax paper and dry 'em so they'll keep. Can I borrow your knife?" 

Daryl takes the blooms and opens his pocket knife for her. Beth undoes the bow and cuts the twine in half. Divides the bouquet into two small bunches. Hands one to Daryl and has him tie the twine around it while she does the same to the other. Rick and Merle are wordlessly watching the two work in tandem, slowly figuring out the game that is afoot. Beth takes a bundle in each hand and presents them to the two men. "I didn't wanna' toss 'em so I thought I'd just hand 'em to the two of you. You gotta' grab on ta' the ones ya' love and hang on for dear life. In the end, love and how we lived it is all that matters."

Both men are speechless. Merle sniffs and turns ta' Rick. Claps him on the shoulder. "Blondie's got a point, Officer Friendly. Maybe me and you otta' listen."

"Maybe so," Rick says. "Maybe so."

Daryl takes Beth's hand and they back a few steps down the wooden walkway before turning and trotting the rest of the way. When they hit the street, Daryl stops and scoots in front of Beth. Hands her the pink, yellow, and white blooms. Turns and bends his knees a bit in a shallow lunge. "Hop on."

"You serious," she asks with a chuckle.

"Serious piggyback, Mrs. Dixon. Hop on, girl."

Beth snuggles in close to Daryl's back and wraps her arms around his chest. "I love you, Mr. Dixon," she whispers in his ear.

"You better," he teases, " 'cause yer stuck wit' me for sure now." When they get to the bottom of the stairs leading up to their home over the garage, Beth slides down Daryl's back and tangles her fingers with his. Leans her head against his shoulder. "What a' ya' thinkin' about, babe?"

"I'm thinkin' I'm one lucky sumbitch'. Never ever would a' dreamed this could be my life. You changed ever'thing, Beth. Ya' changed me. I meant ever'thang I said back there. I'm gonna' love ya', and protect ya', and be yer partner 'til my last breath."

"I know. You should know that you changed me too. Ya' make me brave. Ya' fill me up with love, Daryl. And I'm gonna' love ya', and protect ya', and be yer partner 'til my last breath too."

He kisses her softly, reverently. Rests his palm against her neck and kisses her again. Lays his forehead against hers and takes in a deep shuddering breath. When he pulls away to look at his sweet bride, his Beth, there is so much love staring back at him it nearly buckles his knees.

They climb the stairs lazily, hand in hand. When they reach the door, Daryl turns the knob and swings it open wide. Sweeps his hand behind Beth's knees and lifts her effortlessly into his arms. Carries her over the threshold and kicks the door closed behind him. He doesn't stop until Beth is laying on the bed in front of him, hair fanning out around her head like a halo.

Their first time together as husband and wife is slow and deliberate. They are unselfish in the way they make love, much like the way in which they live and love daily. Beth is wrapped around Daryl's arm, snuggled in close to his side. She is watching the fingers of her left hand dancing in the air. "It's so beautiful, Daryl. I couldn't have designed a more perfect ring myself. Reminds me of angel wings."

Daryl lifts his hand to inspect his matching ring. "Yeah, I knew it was the one when I saw it."

Beth rolls to face him, and Daryl lifts his arm to accommodate. She props herself up on his chest and pins him to the mattress with the intensity of her gaze. "I love you so much, Daryl Dixon. Whatever happens, we handle it together, right?"

"Always, sweetheart." 

**A/N: One more chapter to go! Follow-up of sorts. Thank you so much for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and letting me know what you think. Y'all are the best, and those comments make my day! Most appreciated!**


	20. Damn Romance Novel

**A/N: So here it is, the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading my story. I have had a blast writing this one. I love Beth and Daryl and their fandom. Y'all are the best! Enjoy…**

**~~~**

"Daddy, tell Shawn about how you and mama burned down that shack."

"I done told ya' that story a hundred times by now. Why don’t you tell him?"

" 'Cause you make Mama sound like such a badass when you tell it."

"Watch your mouth, Annie," Beth says patiently with one eyebrow raised. Beth and Daryl's thirteen-year-old daughter is her father made over. Piercing gray-blue eyes, barely-there smile, tough as nails, and stubborn as a mule. Not to mention that mouth 'a hers!

Daryl gets up from his seat at the checkerboard, and ten- year-old Shawn quickly plops down in the vacated spot. Daryl ruffles his blond curls and whispers a little friendly advice in his ear to help with the next move on the board. Seven-year-old Patrick hops from his daddy's lap to his back and is hanging on like a spider monkey. They make their way over to Beth, and Daryl kisses her forehead. Patrick leans over his daddy's shoulder, crinkles his nose, and does the same. "How ya' feelin', sweetheart?" 

Daryl tries to hide his concern, but he isn't fooling Beth. He isn't fooling anyone, truth be told. This pregnancy has been the most difficult one yet. Beth has been sick to her stomach for most of it. The fatigue hit her hard this time too and won't let up. He can't help but worry about the delivery. The memory Judith's birth and her mama's death is still there. It sneaks up on him at the most unexpected times. Sets his teeth on edge. But Beth, the one who brought sweet baby Judith into this world in exchange for her mother's life, never blinks at what could happen. Fear has never had a place in her pregnancies. More of that unwavering faith of hers, Daryl supposes. Beth tells him she is fine, just tired, and rubs at her swollen belly. It won't be long now.

Daryl nearly lost his mind when Beth went into labor with their first. He felt utterly helpless. The fear of losing Beth gripped him like a vice. Watching Beth struggle through the delivery of Annie was both excruciating and beautiful. Each time Beth would grit her teeth and bear down through a contraction, every muscle in Daryl's body would tense. He forgot how to breathe. Ended up light headed and sweaty. When Annie slid from her mama and started whaling like a banshee, he couldn't help the tears that slipped down his cheeks. His wife is a badass. Always has been.

Their second and third were born without complication, but it still did a number on Daryl to see Beth go through that struggle. They had tried for a fourth when Patrick was 2, but it never took. They just assumed it wouldn't, so when Beth discovered she was pregnant five years later, they were understandably surprised. Maybe it was the shock of it, or maybe it was Daryl's deep seeded propensity to look for the other shoe to drop, but the worry he felt with this pregnancy had been almost overwhelming at times. So much so, old nightmares re-surfaced. Each one ending in the loss of Beth.

They had been blessed with three beautiful children. Sarah Annette after both their mothers, Shawn Hershel, and Patrick Merle. They hadn't yet settled on a name when their fourth made her debut. Beth said not to worry. As soon as they met him or her, they would know. Turns out their fourth was a her. A tiny baby girl, significantly smaller than their other three had been, with a head full of wispy blond hair, one deep dimple in her cheek, and one startling defect that nearly took Daryl's breath away. Their baby girl was missing part of her arm. It ended at her elbow in a perfectly rounded mound of soft muscle and skin. Perfect no longer met 10 fingers and 10 toes. His new definition of perfect was just shy of that number.

Beth was exhausted and Daryl's nerves were raw. Labor had taken twice as long this time as it had with their other three. When their baby girl finally arrived, she was too tired to breath. Denise did everything she could, but in the end, it was up to God and the baby. Denise laid her down across Beth's chest, and Daryl settled in next to Beth on the bed. Pulled her snug against him. He stroked his baby girl's cheek, patted her bottom, lightly pinched at her legs. Did everything he could think of to piss her off and make her cry. He begged her to keep breathing. Begged God not to take her away. Beth kept her tilted to her side and continually patted her back. Kept singing even as her tears bathed the silent baby in her arms. Daryl had almost lost hope when their little fighter coughed weakly and finally made a little peep. He swiped at his tears, heart picking up speed, and doubled down on his encouragement. "You sound like a bird, little one. Let me hear you sing. Come on little bird, sing for Daddy." 

She made another peep, then another, until finally, by the grace of God, she let out a squawk that had their hearts racing and their hope surging. "Birdie Faith," Beth whispered when their baby latched on and started to suckle as if she hadn't just brought Badass Beth and The Last Man Standing to their knees. Daryl agreed, Birdie Faith was perfect.

Birdie was tough. Tiny and fierce like her mama. Soft-hearted and quiet like her daddy. Much to Daryl's delight, she had a voice that rivaled her mamas. Beth taught her as many songs as she could remember. Taught her how to play the melodies with one hand on the piano. Growing up with one arm never slowed Birdie down. She was determined to keep up with her older siblings, never using her handicap as an excuse. For her 13th birthday, Daryl made her a metal prosthetic with a soft, bendable knife-like extension. For her 16th, he made her the real thing.

~~~TWD~~~ 

Beth and Daryl have a good life. "Blessed," Beth always says. They are doing their part to help rebuild the world. Alexandria has become the epicenter in a network of thriving communities, most within a day's walk or less, and several more accessible within two or three. Daryl, Merle, and Reg figured out how to build more solar cells, how to put those solar cells together to build large solar panels, and how to repair the existing panels. Daryl and Merle have made quite a name for themselves building and fixing those panels in the network of neighboring communities.

Beth and Denise finished their medical training under the guidance of Dr. Carson and Dr. Saddiq. They stay busy taking care of folks from Alexandria and from their neighboring communities. Sometimes it's hard not having the things they need readily available to help someone, but they have learned to improvise well, and most days are good. They have a wagon and a team of mules to pull that wagon should they need to send someone to D.C. for more advanced care.

As with most lives well-lived, the time flies. Beth blinks, and her first baby girl is married. She and Daryl become grandparents, Pops and Bee, to Annie's baby boy, DJ (Daryl James Proctor). That same year, Shawn marries a girl he met traveling with Daryl and Merle learning the family business. Their sweet baby Birdie is next. She marries the boy she has teased and pestered and loved since she was 8 years old. It was inevitable they suppose. She has had him wrapped around her little finger from day one. They weren’t sure Patrick would ever find his match, but a sassy newcomer to Alexandria managed to tame him. Daryl is still in awe of how things have turned out. Four children, nine grandchildren, and the most beautiful girl on the planet still by his side.

It is the middle of summer and Beth and Daryl are sitting on the front porch. They have spent 42 summers together in Alexandria. It hasn't always been easy. Far from it. Multiple threats have come and gone over the years. But they have more than merely survived. Together they have lived and loved and built something lasting in this new world. 

Beth reaches over and takes Daryl's hand, tells him he needs to remember that she loves him beyond space and time, just like she promised the day they wed. He looks at her with a worried scowl, knows there is more to that statement. Knows he isn’t ready to hear the rest of it. Beth's been looking a little pale lately. She has never been big. Didn't even gain much weight during or after her pregnancies, but now that he really looks at her, he is forced to admit to himself that she is too thin. He can see the bluish tint to the skin around her eyes. His heart starts pounding against his chest, and it makes him cantankerous. "What the hell you goin' on about, woman?"

"Daryl, I'm tellin' ya' to remember that I'm always with ya'… in here," she says patiently and lays a delicate finger over his thudding heart. "Annie got my test results back from D.C. today. My liver's eat up with cancer and I'm tired, babe. I'm just so tired. Annie and I talked. We agree it won’t be long."

"Now listen, Beth," he growls and stands up to pace. "There's no way ya' can know how much time ya' got left. That ain't up ta' you." He flicks his wrist in the air and waves a finger toward the gates. "I'll take ya' to D.C…. to that hospital where Annie sent Rick that time. I bet there's somethin' they can do for ya' there. We'll leave tomorrow," he says with every intention of going in the house and packing their suitcases right now. 

"Daryl, now you sit down and listen ta' me," Beth says gently but in no uncertain terms. She scoots his chair around to face her and pats the seat. Daryl stares at her for a minute from across the porch, eyes narrowed and as piercing as ever. Beth watches as he comes to understand that he's not gonna' win this argument, not with her and not with God. He plops down in his chair with a huff and a grunt, and Beth takes both his hands in hers. "I'm not spendin' my last days in a hospital in D.C. I can't beat this thing… and neither can you. I ain't scared, babe. I know where I'm goin'…" She sees the pain and the fear flash in his eyes before the sadness settles in. It breaks her heart, but she is determined to stay strong. She smiles sweetly and leans in a little closer. Chuckles when she says, "In case you haven't noticed, we're _ooold,_ Mr. Dixon, and dyin' is just a part 'a that."

"Naw, Beth. I don’t wanna' hear this," he whines. "I can't do this without ya'. Ya' know that." His head is shaking back and forth as he pleads with her to stop.

Beth cups his face in both hands and wipes at his tears with her thumbs. "Yes, you can, Daryl Dixon," she says with conviction. "I know you’re gonna' miss me so bad when I'm gone, but you gotta' keep on livin'. For the kids. For the grandkids. For Rick and for Carol. For Aaron and Maggie. You gotta' keep livin' until the Lord calls ya' home. I'll be waitin' for ya'. You know that. Then we really will be together forever."

"It ain't fair to ask me that. Ain't fair ta' ask me ta' live without ya', Beth."

~~~TWD~~~

Four months have passed since Beth told Daryl the news. She has done every bit of living and loving she can in those four months. Has made sure everyone is prepared, advised, and taken care of because she is Beth, and that's what needed to be done. She gave Birdie her journals. Forty-plus years of detailed memories. She started writing about her childhood as soon as they arrived in Alexandria. Stories about her parents and Maggie and Shawn and growing up on the farm. Stories about how different life was then. About how it felt to leave it all behind and brave the new and violent post-apocalyptic world.

The second and third journals are the product of quiet hours spent alone, reaching into her memory to record her recent history from the time of the turn. She wrote about a motley crew of survivors that landed on the doorstep of their family farm. She wrote about meeting Daryl and that first night they spent talking in her treehouse. She wrote about losing her mama and her brother. About Daryl sacrificing a piece of himself to put down a sweet old man named Dale in his suffering and another piece looking for Sophia. She wrote about that awful day when the horrors of the walking dead became all too real. About riding Daryl's motorcycle for the first time as they sped away from her home. Seeing it overrun and on fire from the corner of her eye. In the fourth journal, she wrote about their lives as scavengers, knocking down doors, and wondering in an endless circle to do nothing more than exist. She wrote about finding the prison and making it a home. About bringing Judith into this world and letting Judith's mama go. About Daryl calling her Lil' Asskicker and saving her life by charging into the unknown for formula and baby supplies. She wrote about finding her singing voice again, falling in love slowly then all at once, and about all the things Daryl would bring back to her from a run. She taped a worn-out piece of leather with the word "faith" etched into it to an empty page. Drew a heart around it and wrote "first kiss" beneath it.

She wrote about Daryl going to her daddy to declare his intentions. About growing in a relationship with Daryl and about becoming the best version of herself alongside of him. She wrote too about how their second home was destroyed on the same day she lost her daddy. Life at the prison filled up a couple of journals by the time she detailed stories of her and Daryl, stories of Judith, of her family, of the Woodbury folks, and the Governor.

In the next, she wrote in detail about her time with Daryl out on the road scavenging, learning to survive, learning how to be brave. She even wrote about killing a man with a jar of jelly and not being sorry about it. She wrote about her partnership with the man she loved. About how they survived together, how they screamed and yelled and stripped each other bare of their fears and guilt, and how they came out stronger because it. How they became irrevocably bound to each other from that day forward. She wrote down Daryl's childhood stories as best as she could remember them. Wrote about burning down a moonshine shack as a final f-you to his violent upbringing. She wrote about eating a rattle snake, learning to track and hunt, and shoot Daryl's beloved crossbow. She wrote about finding their family again by the grace of God. About learning to be a part of the group again and about how she was determined to be accepted as the Beth she had become, not the Beth she was before. She wrote about knocking down the rest of Daryl's walls and about willingly giving herself to him completely.

In one of Birdie's favorite journals, Beth talks about meeting Aaron and the day they first saw Alexandria. About settling in and staying vigilant. About Daryl's proposal and their spontaneous wedding. She wrote about making Alexandria their home. About becoming a doctor, a mother, and a grandmother. Her journals are full of stories about her children, their extended family, the re-birth of the world, and life with her beloved Daryl. Their love is woven into every story Beth writes. All in all, she handed Birdie nearly 200 journals knowing her baby girl would cherish them the most not only as her daughter but also as an historian. The only stipulation Beth gave Birdie was that she wasn't allowed to read them until after Beth was gone. Birdie promised her mama she wouldn't, but what a temptation that turned out to be!

Birdie keeps public records for Alexandria and the other communities in their network. Distributes a written newspaper of sorts each month to all the communities. Sends information across the radio to the other communities if there are any pressing issues. And she writes. She has already had two novels published in D.C. and has quite the fan following. They are fiction novels about life before the turn. She's been keeping a journal since she learned to read and write. When she was little, she used to bug the snot out of Beth and Daryl wanting to know about the old world, the technology, the way they lived and worked before the turn. Daryl took to bringing her back pieces of the past when he would go on a run. They would sit and talk about each little thing. What it was used for. How it worked. Why it was necessary. Birdie wrote a detailed history and description for each little thing. Daryl made her a notebook, something like an old three-ring binder so she could keep adding to it as new discoveries about the past were made. Daryl found some history text books in an abandoned high school on his way to a new community. Thank goodness he was in the wagon on that trip. Those books kept his baby girl busy for months, reading and in her daddy's lap asking questions. It's no wonder she grew up to be a writer.

The last four months have flown by quicker than any Beth can recall. She is lying in a bed at the Alexandria clinic. Daryl is by her side. Annie adjusts the drip carrying the morphine through the IV in Beth's arm. Beth held out for as long as she could, but the pain eventually took over, too intense to manage. She finally broke down and let Annie, her doctor daughter, hook her up to the meds that would alleviate her pain and eventually escort her quietly into her next adventure. 

"Daddy, it won't be long now," Annie says in a choked whisper. Leans down and hugs him from behind. "She'll hang on too long if you don't let her go. She'll hang on for you, Daddy." 

Daryl nods his bent head and squeezes Beth's hand. Shawn, Birdie, and Patrick are there too, all gathered around Beth's bed. Maggie and all the others have said their goodbyes. They wait quietly in the hall.

Daryl moves from his chair to sit and face her in her bed. "Beth, sweetheart," he says, and a small, peaceful smile appears on her face. "Annie says…" He stops. Chokes on his tears. Clears his throat, and sucks in a hard, settling breath. Tries again. "Annie says it's time for me ta' let ya' go… Seems right, I reckon, that you should go first. You were always braver than me, girl." He feels a little squeeze from Beth's hand. Her eyes flutter beneath her lids but they refuse to open. "I love ya', Beth. Ya' know that." His words scrape across his throat, thick and heavy with more of his tears. He summons every bit of courage he has to try and say goodbye. No, not goodbye. Beth hates goodbyes. "We did good," he whispers. Runs his hand across the little braid holding her hair back from her face. Leans in and whispers in her ear. "We did real good… You go on, now sweetheart. I'll see ya' soon." He kisses her on the forehead. Stays by her side, watching the rise and fall of her chest as it slows. Beth doesn't linger long. Passes the way she wished her daddy had all those years ago, resting with all of her children and the love of her life by her side.

Daryl is walking in Beth's little garden behind their house. She's been gone ten days now, and somehow the sunflowers have still managed to bloom. He's done his best to keep up the charade. Tells them all he's doing okay, but the truth is, the constant ache in his chest makes it hard to breath. His heart hasn't beat right since she left him. A familiar giggle dances on the breeze, and he spins to find its origin. Sure enough, Beth is standing there waving and smiling like she used to do when he came back from a run. She's wearing that pretty pink sundress she wore on their wedding day. Her hair is braided across the top of her head and pulled over her shoulder in a low ponytail. She is still the prettiest damn thing he's ever seen. His feet carry him towards her, and he feels forty years younger. Stronger and stronger the closer he gets to her. Beth throws her arms around his neck and whispers in his ear. "I've been waitin' for you, Mr. Dixon. You ready?"

"Hell, yeah, I'm ready, girl. I missed you so bad while you were gone."

"I know ya' did, but I'm here now, and I ain't ever gonna' leave ya' again. Wait 'til ya' see where we're goin', Daryl. You're gonna' love it…"

"I don't care where we go, sweetheart. Long as I'm with you. I love ya', Mrs. Dixon."

"I love you too, babe."

Shawn finds him in his chair on the back porch. At first, he thinks his dad is sleeping. Sends his wife to get Annie at the clinic. They bury Daryl next to Beth the following day.

"He looked like he was smiling when I found him," Shawn says.

"Maybe Mama came to get him. I don't think either one of them could stand being apart," Birdie says with a watery laugh.

"Probably so," Patrick nods.

"What are you reading, Bird," Shawn asks.

"It’s Mama's journal from right after the turn. I've decided to write my next book about her and Daddy, based on her journals. I think it will practically write itself if all the journals are this detailed. It's crazy some of the things they went through. You know all those stories Daddy used to tell us about 'Badass Beth'? Reading them from Mama's perspective, you can see how they were a team. To hear her tell it, they would have all died if it wasn't for Daddy… They loved each other so much. Might end up being a damn romance novel," she says then her face flushes, and she chuckles. "It’s kinda' weird though, reading about the two of them, you know…"

"No way!" Patrick hollers. "Uhuh!" Shawn says at the same time. "Mama wrote about that?"

"Yeah, I was skimming through some of the other journals and… well, Mama wrote about everything," Birdie says dramatically. "They were epic, you know? I'm gonna' make sure everyone knows that."

Annie turns from where she has been looking silently out the back window at her mama's garden. "Everyone that matters already knows, Birdie. But you're right, they were epic, and the rest of the world should know that too. Just don't give away too many of her secrets…"

**~The End~**

**A/N: Well, I hate saying goodbye to Beth and Daryl. I hope I did their epic journey some justice. Thank you, thank you for sticking with me! Please, if you don't mind, let me know what you think. I poured my heart into this one. It would mean so much to me to hear from you! Take care, friends.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I haven't written anything in a long time. I'm excited to be back in the game. Thanks for reading! A quick comment would be most appreciated. I'm open to any and all suggestions, constructive criticism, and I love a good joke!  
> Ren


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